Page 26 of Grumpy Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #4)

Chapter

Twenty-Two

Ivy Bright pulled into the nature center’s parking lot the morning of the grand opening.

She’d chosen her sunshine-yellow dress deliberately, its cheerful color a declaration of her steadfast optimism.

Today marked more than just an opening—it was proof that their community could overcome those who sought to exploit it.

She walked through the still empty exhibition hall, her footsteps echoing in the silence.

The security measures were subtle but present. After what they’d uncovered about Porter’s shell companies and Vance’s terrified confessions about the unnamed “they” behind the conspiracy, the institute wasn’t taking chances.

Ivy paused at the entrance to the main hall. The building held the scents of fresh paint, polished wood, and hope. Despite everything, they’d made it to this day. The nature center would open as scheduled.

Henry appeared in the doorway, wearing his formal ranger uniform, the crisp lines making him look official. Two months ago, this gruff ranger had growled at her enthusiasm and dismissed her project as a threat to his wilderness. She couldn’t believe how far they’d come

The next several hours brought the controlled chaos of final preparations.

Construction crews arrived, many who’d worked overtime after the vandalism.

Whispered conversations rippled through the workers: “...heard the FBI took boxes from Porter’s office.

..” “...Vance’s family lost everything, but at least he’s cooperating.

..” “...they say there are more shell companies they haven’t found yet. ..”

The last educational displays were secured, interactive exhibits tested one final time.

Staff moved through the building checking lights, adjusting signs, and making sure every detail was perfect.

When the clock struck noon, Ivy took a deep breath and nodded to Henry, who stood by the main entrance.

“Ready?” she asked.

His normally stern expression softened with something like pride. “Open the doors.”

The heavy glass doors swung wide, revealing a small crowd gathered outside.

Sunlight streamed into the entrance hall as visitors began to filter inside, their excited voices filling the space.

Children rushed toward the interactive displays while parents followed more slowly, taking in the impressive center with appreciative glances.

The first wave of visitors brought familiar faces. Max and Laney Bock from the brewery arrived early. “We’re forming a coalition,” Max explained, keeping his voice low. “Local businesses working together to protect each other. What happened to you, to us, to Hampton Orchard—it’s all connected.”

“The FBI agent investigating this mentioned they’re looking at similar patterns in other communities,” Laney added. “Whoever ‘they’ are, they’ve done this before.”

Her brother Ash and his mate Eliana joined the growing circle, baby Eli secure in his father’s arms. “The resistance you faced trying to build something good for the community,” Ash said, shaking his head. “Same playbook they used against Eliana’s orchard.”

The conversations buzzed with a mix of celebration and vigilance: “Porter’s investors are running scared—publicly distancing themselves...” “The renovation sign on his office isn’t fooling anyone...” “But who are ‘they’? Who was Vance so afraid of?”

Through it all, Ivy noticed something remarkable about Henry. He wasn’t hiding in corners or growling at well-wishers. When a little girl approached to ask about bears, he knelt to her level, to explain how cubs learn to fish.

Her father, Corey Bright, silver-haired and commanding even in retirement, went straight to Henry with an extended hand. “Takes courage to fight for something you initially opposed.”

Henry accepted the handshake, and Ivy saw him straighten slightly under her father’s praise. “Ivy’s vision was worth protecting.”

Holly caught Ivy’s arm, pulling her aside. “Look at your ranger,” she whispered. “He hasn’t fled to the forest once today.”

“He’s trying,” Ivy said, watching Henry endure Reed’s enthusiastic monologuing about his favorite guitar solos. “It’s not easy for him.”

“The best things rarely are,” Holly observed.

Maya Wilson arrived wearing a volunteer badge. The activist who’d once viewed the nature center as another assault on the wilderness now saw it as a defense.

“I’m sorry I didn’t see the difference between development and preservation sooner,” Maya said.

The shadow of the conspiracy lingered throughout the celebration. But the most surprising conversation came when Lisa Mercer arrived. The architect who’d lost the bid approached with visible nervousness. “Dr. Bright,” she began, then stopped, taking a breath. “Ivy. I owe you an apology.”

Henry shifted closer. “For what, specifically?” Ivy asked.

“For letting professional jealousy cloud my judgment. For those bitter comments after you won the bid. For...” Lisa glanced at Henry. “For being at your construction site that morning for the wrong reasons.”

“The scaffolding,” Henry said flatly.

“I was taking photos,” Lisa admitted. “For my portfolio. Your innovative design techniques—I wanted to study them. I should have asked permission, should have been there during proper hours, but my pride...” She shook her head.

“Porter approached me after I lost the bid. Wanted me to ‘partner’ with him to undermine your project.”

Ivy felt Henry tense but kept her voice calm. “What did you tell him?”

“At first, I was tempted. He played on my resentment, kept asking questions about your timeline, your security measures. But when I realized he wanted inside information to sabotage you, not compete fairly, I refused.”

“But you didn’t warn us,” Henry pointed out.

Lisa’s shoulders sagged. “I thought it was just sour grapes. Another bitter developer mad about losing. I never imagined...” She pulled out her phone. “I’ve been cooperating with the FBI. These are emails where he tried to recruit me. I should have spoken up sooner.”

Looking at the emails, Ivy could see Porter’s manipulation tactics—flattery mixed with promises of future projects, subtle hints about the “right people” to know in the industry. The same techniques he’d probably used on Vance.

“We all make mistakes,” Ivy said finally. “What matters is what we do next.”