As Philip tended the vines the next morning, he could not make up his mind whether or not last night had been a success.
Yes, his bear answered emphatically. It was.
But Philip was not convinced. There had been times when he’d felt so close to Elsbeth, as if the final barriers between them had crumbled, and when they sat on the bench, he’d known the moment was right to tell her who he was and what they shared.
But then the moment had abruptly gone. Broken by Elsbeth. He was certain she’d known he was about to speak, and for some reason, she hadn’t wanted to hear what he had to say.
Do you think she knows about shifters? his bear said. Someone in town might have told her.
And she might have put two and two together and realized I was about to tell her we were mates, Philip mused.
And she didn’t want to know. She didn’t want to hear the words, and know it was true, his bear said forlornly.
Or maybe he was overthinking it all. Philip paused, secateurs in hand, and straightened up to look across the vineyard. The morning sun shimmered on the dew-covered leaves, weaving a pattern of light and shadow that always brought him peace.
What if it wasn’t about shifters at all?
He thought back to dinner, to the way Elsbeth had spoken about her mother. The raw grief that still lingered in her voice. The way she’d touched that rose charm bracelet throughout the evening, like a talisman connecting her to someone she’d lost.
Maybe she’s just not ready, he said.
His bear stirred, considering this new perspective. She lost her mother less than a year ago. Her whole world changed. She needs time.
Philip nodded slowly. And we’re strangers to her, really. We’ve only known each other for a short time.
Even though we don’t feel like strangers, his bear added.
It made perfect sense now. Elsbeth wasn’t rejecting him or the bond. In fact, it was probably nothing to do with him at all. She simply wasn’t ready to take on anything else when she was still healing from such a devastating loss. She had uprooted her entire life to fulfill a promise to her mother, bought a farm, and was pouring everything into making her dream a reality.
Last night, she’d probably sensed that he was about to share something with her. Something important. And she didn’t feel strong enough to take on any more.
She needs a friend right now, Philip murmured, a new sense of purpose filling him. Someone to support her dreams, not complicate them.
Yes! his bear agreed enthusiastically. We can be that for her. Until she is ready for more.
A weight lifted from Philip’s shoulders. He would be there for Elsbeth, however she needed him to be—friend, helper, and confidant. He would prove himself worthy of her trust first, and the rest would follow when she was ready.
With renewed energy, Philip finished pruning the last section of vines. He gathered his tools, giving the vineyard one final satisfied look before heading back to the house.
In the kitchen garden, his parents worked side by side, a picture of contentment that made his heart ache with longing. His mother was on her knees, planting seedlings, while his father turned the soil nearby. They moved in perfect harmony, occasionally exchanging glances that spoke volumes.
“I’m heading over to Rose Farm,” Philip announced as he approached.
Hugo looked up, wiping his brow with the back of his hand. “Okay, see you later, son.”
“Give Elsbeth our love,” Leanne added, standing slowly with one hand pressed against the small of her back.
Hugo immediately went to her side, his arm wrapping protectively around her waist as they watched Philip walk toward his truck.
They are all rooting for us, his bear said happily.
I know, Philip replied, trying not to feel the pressure of expectation.
They can’t wait to welcome Elsbeth to the family properly, his bear said.
Neither can I, Philip replied. But we can’t rush things. Not now.
They understand, his bear replied with certainty.
Philip slid behind the wheel of his truck, placing his tools in the passenger seat. As he drove the winding mountain roads toward Rose Farm, he turned on the radio, letting the music fill the cab. Some upbeat country song played, and he found himself humming along, tapping his fingers against the steering wheel.
The tension that had gripped him all morning had dissolved, replaced by a calm certainty. This was right. Being there for Elsbeth, supporting her dreams, and becoming someone she could depend on. That was what mattered now. The rest would come in its own time.
The mating bond was not going anywhere—and neither was he.
And she feels it, too, his bear said.
She does, Philip replied. It was there in the way her eyes widened and her cheeks flushed pink when they touched. It was there in the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn’t looking.
She had no idea he didn’t need to see her to know she was looking at him—he could feel her.
As he rounded the final curve in the road, Rose Farm came into view. The old farmhouse stood proud against the backdrop of mountains. Elsbeth had already started to transform the place: she’d painted the front door, weeded the flower beds around the house, and cleared the pathways between the outbuildings.
She was bringing the place back to life, just as she had done to his heart.
Philip parked beside her car and grabbed his tools. He could sense her nearby, probably working in the fields where they’d left the irrigation system half-finished. The thought of seeing her again sent heat searing through his veins.
He found her exactly where he expected—wrestling with a section of pipe, her brow furrowed in concentration. She wore her mother’s flannel shirt again, the sleeves rolled up to her elbows, dirt smudged across one cheek. Her hair was pulled back in a messy braid, tendrils escaping to frame her face.
To Philip, she had never looked more beautiful.
“Need a hand?” he called, approaching with his toolbox.
Elsbeth looked up, surprise giving way to a smile that lit her entire face. “Philip! I didn’t expect to see you today.”
“I promised to help with the irrigation system,” he said simply, setting down his tools. “And I always keep my promises.”
Something flickered in her eyes. Relief, perhaps, or gratitude. She straightened, brushing dirt from her hands. “I’m beginning to think I’m never going to get this finished.”
“That’s what friends are for,” Philip replied, the word ‘friends’ feeling both right and not quite enough. But it was a start. “To help when things get tough.”
Elsbeth’s smile softened. “I’m lucky to have found a friend like you in Bear Creek.”
“You’ve found more than just me,” Philip assured her, kneeling to examine the section of pipe. “This coupling seems loose. Do you have that regulator I gave you yesterday? We’ll need it to properly connect these sections.”
“It’s in the shed,” Elsbeth said, already backing away. “I’ll go get it.”
“Perfect,” Philip called after her retreating form, watching as she jogged toward the weathered outbuilding.
We’re helping her build her dream, his bear rumbled contentedly.
Elsbeth has already made our dreams come true, Philip murmured, examining the irrigation layout.
She’d made decent progress on her own, but some of the connections needed adjusting to ensure proper water flow.
Elsbeth returned moments later, slightly out of breath, the regulator clutched in her hands. “Found it!” she announced triumphantly.
“Great,” Philip said, taking it from her. Their fingers brushed, sending that familiar spark through his body. He noticed her quick intake of breath and knew she felt it, too.
Together, they worked side by side, fitting the pipes together with the regulator as the central connection point. Philip guided her hands with his own, showing her how to tighten the fittings just enough without stripping the threads.
“Like this?” she asked, her face inches from his as they both crouched over the pipe junction.
“Perfect,” he said softly. “You’re a natural.”
“I am not planning on doing anything on this scale again,” Elsbeth told him. “But thanks for the compliment.”
“Ready for the next phase?” Philip asked, wiping sweat from his brow as he grinned at her.
Elsbeth nodded eagerly. “Let’s do it.”
They gathered the remaining sections of pipe and hiked up toward the spring, following the path they’d discovered together. The climb was steep in places, but Elsbeth kept pace with him effortlessly, her determination to see this through evident in every step.
At the spring, Philip set down his tools and surveyed the area. “We’ll need to create a small dam to collect the water before it enters the pipes,” he explained. “That way, we can control the flow and filter out any debris.”
“I’ve never built a dam before,” Elsbeth admitted.
“First time for everything,” Philip grinned, rolling up his sleeves. “Watch and learn. And help, if you want.”
“I do want,” Elsbeth said, watching him dig with a small shovel he’d brought.
The earth was soft and rich, yielding easily to his efforts. As he worked, he became increasingly aware of Elsbeth’s gaze following his movements. Her eyes traced the flex of his muscles, the set of his shoulders as he dug deeper into the earth.
She likes what she sees, his bear teased.
“Want to give it a try?” Philip asked.
“Sure,” Elsbeth said, and he handed her the small shovel.
“See how I’ve sloped it slightly?” Philip explained, forcing himself to focus on the task rather than the heat of her gaze. “That creates a natural filter as the water settles.”
“It’s fascinating,” Elsbeth nodded. “Like this?”
“Just like that,” he replied, sitting back on his heels to inspect their work. “Now we need to line it with stones to prevent erosion. Mind helping me gather some?”
“Absolutely.”
They worked together, collecting smooth rocks from the surrounding area and placing them carefully along the edges of the small depression. Philip’s hands moved with practiced precision, arranging the stones to create a natural-looking basin.
“The rocks help filter the water, too,” he explained. “And they prevent soil from washing into your irrigation system.”
“So the pipes don’t get clogged,” Elsbeth added more flat stones along the base of the dam.
As the last stone fell into place, water began to pool in their makeshift dam, clear and sparkling in the midday sun.
“It’s working!” Elsbeth exclaimed, kneeling beside the growing pool of water.
“Of course it is,” Philip replied with a playful wink. “Did you doubt me?”
“Never. You’ve proven yourself quite reliable, Philip Thornberg.”
Something about her tone gave him butterflies. Without thinking, he dipped his hand into the cool water and flicked a few droplets in her direction.
Elsbeth gasped, eyes narrowing playfully. “You did not just do that.”
“Looks like I did.”
She stared at him for a moment, then retaliated with both hands.
What followed was nothing short of glorious chaos. They splashed and dodged, laughter echoing through the trees as they soaked each other. Elsbeth’s shriek when he got water down the back of her neck had Philip laughing so hard he nearly fell over.
This is how it should be, his bear said, rumbling with delight.
For those few precious minutes, they weren’t a vineyard manager and a flower farmer. They weren’t even adults. They were simply two souls, having fun.
When they finally collapsed on the grass beside the spring, breathless and dripping, Philip couldn’t remember the last time he’d felt so light.
And if this is how things have to be for now—just friends—I’m okay with it.
More than okay, his bear said.
You’re right, Philip said as he stared up at the sky, his mate by his side.
He was happy.