Page 4 of Guard Bear (Return To Fate Mountain #5)

Chapter

Three

On Saturday morning, Joy leaned against the counter waiting for the French press to steep, scrolling through her phone.

The weather forecast for market day looked perfect.

She tapped over to check her email and then her texts.

There was a notification she'd missed from mate.com.

The kitchen timer chimed. Joy pressed the plunger. She poured her coffee and added cream.

She opened the mate.com notification while she sipped her coffee. It was probably just another promotional message about upgrading her membership or success stories from other users. Still, her mountain lion stirred with interest as she opened it.

"Congratulations! We've found your fated mate."

Her fated mate. Heart hammering, Joy set the mug down and tapped to see his profile.

Username: Guard Bear. Name: Andre Holt. Age: 32. Shifter type: Grizzly bear. Location: Fate Mountain, Oregon.

He was here. In her town.

His profile photo made her knees go weak and her inner lion go wild. Dark hair cut short and neat. Warm brown eyes that crinkled at the corners from a genuine smile. Broad shoulders filling out a blue button-down shirt. He looked kind.

He'd already sent her a message. "Hi Joy, I'm Andre. I just moved to Fate Mountain to work with Bear Patrol. I see we matched at 100%... I'd love to meet you and learn more about your business. Would you like to chat?"

Joy read it three times. The message seemed friendly, but she closed the app without responding. She needed time to think. The farmers market would keep her busy all morning. She'd figure out what to do about her fated mate after she'd cleared her head.

She dressed quickly in jeans and her favorite market day shirt, the one with a whimsical bee pattern. Loading the truck took all her focus. Boxes of lavender honey soap. Beeswax candles in mason jars. Sample sizes of honey. Each item nestled carefully in its crate, everything in its proper place.

Her heart pounded the entire time. Sweat beaded on her forehead despite the cool morning air. Every time she reached for another box, she saw those warm brown eyes. And the words in his bio flashed through her mind.

I believe in keeping the people I care about safe. It made her extremely nervous, and she didn’t quite know why. Joy slammed the truck tailgate harder than necessary. Her mountain lion paced, restless and eager.

On the drive to town, she kept the windows down, the mountain air rushing through the cab. The familiar curves of the road required just enough attention to quiet her spinning thoughts. By the time she reached the town square, her hands had stopped shaking.

The farmers market was bustling with early vendors. Her best friend Holly was already there, arranging delicate glass bears on velvet displays while Elias carried boxes from the car.

"Morning, sunshine!" Holly called out, her happiness infectious as always.

Joy managed a smile and a wave. Normal. Everything was normal. Just another market day.

She threw herself into setup. The aluminum tent poles were cold under her fingers, morning dew making them slick. She wiped each connection point with the hem of her shirt before clicking them together. The poles sang a metallic note as they locked into place.

The tent canvas unfurled with a whoosh, releasing the scent of waterproofing. She stretched it taut over the frame, muscles in her shoulders pulling as she reached for the far corners. Each bungee cord snapped against the poles with a satisfying thwack.

Her folding tables came next. The legs stuck, as always, requiring her to brace one foot against the crossbar and yank.

Metal scraped against metal. The first table wobbled until she kicked the adjustable foot, evening out the legs.

The second table cooperated better, clicking into place with minimal fight.

She smoothed the checkered tablecloths across the surfaces, her palms pressing out wrinkles that wanted to spring back.

The embroidered bees seemed to dance as she adjusted the fabric, making sure it hung evenly on all sides.

A clothespin at each corner kept the mountain breeze from playing havoc with her display.

Each soap found its designated spot. Lavender honey in the front left, where the morning sun would catch the purple swirls. Goat milk oatmeal in neat stacks beside it. Her newest batch of coffee scrub arranged in a pyramid.

The second table displayed amber jars of honey alongside mason jars of beeswax candles in every scent she'd perfected. Pine Forest. Vanilla Bourbon. Honeysuckle Bloom. Each product told part of her story.

The price cards slid into their copper holders.

She'd hand-lettered each one during slow winter evenings, practicing her calligraphy until the numbers flowed just right.

Business cards fanned across the table's corner, the little bee logo designed by Liv Bock marching across each rectangle of cardstock.

Her cash box clicked open to her touch, the sound sharp in the morning quiet.

She counted the bills twice, fingers sliding across worn paper.

Twenties in the back slot, tens next, fives and ones up front for easy change-making.

The quarter roll cracked open between her fingers, coins cascading into their compartment with a metallic rain.

"You seem distracted." Holly appeared at her elbow, a cup of coffee extended toward her. "Everything okay?"

Joy accepted the coffee gratefully. "I'm fine. Just thinking about my hives."

"Seriously though." Holly touched her arm gently. "What's going on? You look like you've seen a ghost."

Joy glanced around. The market was filling up, but no customers had reached their corner yet. Elias was chatting with the bread vendor two booths down.

"I got matched on mate.com this morning," she whispered.

Holly's squeal could probably be heard in Portland. "Joy! Oh my god! Finally! Who is he? What's his name? Is he local? When are you meeting him?"

"Please don't." Joy pressed her fingers against her temples, but she was fighting a smile. Holly's joy was hard to resist.

"I can't help it. Do you know how long I've been waiting for this?" Holly grabbed both of Joy's hands, squeezing tight. "Tell me everything."

"His name is Andre. He's..." Joy's throat closed around the words. "He just joined Bear Patrol. He's new in town. Just moved here."

"Oh." Holly's expression shifted to understanding. "That's nice. Isn't it."

"His profile says he believes in keeping the people he cares about safe. Seems weird.”

Holly squeezed her hands again, realization dawning in her eyes. "So, he’s protective. That doesn't mean he's overbearing. Lots of people want to protect their families.”

Before Holly could respond, her uncle Rollo appeared at their booths. The former police chief moved with the easy confidence of someone who'd spent decades keeping the peace. His lined face creased into a warm smile.

"Morning, ladies. How's business?"

"Can't complain," Holly said, hugging her uncle. "Joy just got some wonderful news."

Joy shot her friend a warning look. "It's nothing."

Rollo's sharp eyes missed nothing. "Glad to hear things are good. Actually, I wanted to ask if either of you have noticed anything unusual lately. We're starting up a new security initiative."

Joy's stomach tightened. "My dad mentioned some problems on the ranch and at the MacAllister place."

"What kind of problems?" Rollo's expression turned serious.

"Cut fences. Missing livestock." Joy hesitated, then added, "I've had some little things too. Some beehive equipment moved around. A strange smell. I thought it was maybe just animals, but..."

"But now you're not sure." Rollo pulled out a small notebook. "When did this start?"

"A few days ago. It's really not a big deal. You should talk to my dad or Leland about the ranch issues."

"I'll report all this to the coordinator." He scribbled notes. "We're taking everything seriously, no matter how small it seems. Better safe than sorry."

Rollo headed toward the main pavilion where the market manager was setting up a microphone. Joy watched him go, unease crawling up her spine. The market manager tapped the microphone. "Good morning, everyone! Before we officially open, I have an important announcement."

Conversations died as vendors and early customers turned toward the pavilion.

"As most of you know, there have been increasing security concerns around Fate Mountain.

I'm pleased to announce that Bear Patrol and our veteran law enforcement volunteers have created the Fate Mountain Security Initiative to help keep our community safe.

Please welcome our new coordinator, Officer Andre Holt. "

Andre Holt. Her mate’s name. Joy gripped the edge of her table as he stepped up to the microphone. Her cougar roared, and every cell in her body screamed with recognition.

Andre Holt stood tall and broad in his Bear Patrol uniform. The morning sun caught the highlights in his hair. He reached for the microphone, missed it on the first try, then gripped the stand with both hands like it might escape.

"Good morning." His voice carried across the square, deep and rumbling.

A feedback squeal made him jerk back, nearly knocking over the mic stand.

He caught it, cleared his throat. "Sorry.

I'm Officer Andre Holt. I'll be coordinating the Security Initiative to help protect our local businesses and residents. "

He lifted one hand to gesture, then seemed to forget what to do with it, letting it drop to his side. His weight shifted from foot to foot as he scanned the crowd. Then his eyes found hers.

The transformation was instant. His mouth fell open mid-word. The professional mask didn't just slip—it shattered. Even from across the square, Joy could see his chest expand with a sharp intake of breath.

"We'll be... uh..." His Adam’s apple bobbed as he swallowed hard. One hand came up to tug at his collar, though it wasn't tight. His gaze stayed locked on Joy like he'd been struck by lightning. "We'll be increasing patrols and working with volunteers to..."

The silence stretched. Someone in the crowd coughed. The market manager shifted nervously beside him.

Andre blinked hard, shook his head like a bear emerging from water. His hand scrubbed over his face. When he forced his gaze away from Joy, his jaw clenched so tight a muscle jumped in his cheek.

"To ensure everyone's safety." The words came out rough, like he'd swallowed gravel. He grabbed a water bottle from the podium, fumbled with the cap, and took a long drink. Water dripped down his chin, and he wiped it with the back of his hand.

"If you've noticed anything suspicious, no matter how small, please report it. We're here to help." The words tumbled out in a rush now. He backed away from the microphone too quickly, bumping into the market manager. "Sorry. Thank you. That's all."

He practically fled the podium, taking the stairs two at a time. The flush wasn't just creeping up his neck—it had conquered his entire face, visible even from Joy's distant booth.

"He seems super competent," Holly murmured. “I feel safer already.”

Joy forced herself to look away, hands trembling as she straightened the already perfect soap displays. But she could feel him still watching. Feel the weight of his gaze like a physical touch.

"That's him," Joy whispered. "That's my mate."

Holly sucked in a breath. "Oh... wow. He's… uh… he’s really cute."

"I know." Joy's voice came out strangled.

Joy tracked Andre's movements as he stepped down from the pavilion and began working his way through the crowd. His path would bring him directly to her booth in minutes.

A customer approached, elderly Mrs. Chesterfield looking for her usual lavender bars. Joy had never been so grateful for a distraction. She focused on the transaction, counting change twice because her hands wouldn't stop shaking.

But she could smell him now. Pine and steel and the warm scent of sugar cookies. Her mountain lion rose up, pressing against the boundaries of her control.

Mate. Mate. Mate.

He was here.