As Philip drove home, he replayed every moment of their encounter with Elsbeth. The way she gestured with her hands when explaining her vision for the flower beds, the slight furrow between her brows when she concentrated, the depth of sadness that shadowed her eyes when she spoke of remembrance.
We shouldn’t have left, his bear grumbled as Philip pulled into the vineyard’s long driveway.
We needed to, Philip replied softly. She needs space.
She needs us, his bear countered.
Philip couldn’t argue with that. Every cell in his body ached to turn around, to race back to the Old Larson place and tell Elsbeth everything. That they were meant to be together. That fate had brought them together because that was exactly where they were meant to be.
But he knew better. Some flowers needed time to bloom.
The hacienda-style house came into view. The sight always filled him with a sense of pride and belonging. Tonight, though, the feeling was different, bittersweet, almost. As if this were his past, while his future lay back at the Old Larson place.
The same place where he’d left his heart—with Elsbeth.
He parked his truck and sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel.
We should go back, his bear said mournfully.
We’ll see her tomorrow, he replied, trying to placate his restless bear.
Tomorrow is too far away, his bear protested.
Philip glanced at the dashboard clock. 7:15 PM. Later than he’d planned, and he’d likely missed dinner. But his mom would have left him a plate.
Are you going to tell them? his bear demanded. This isn’t the kind of news we should keep to ourselves, especially since Finn knows already.
You’re right. We should tell Mom and Dad before anyone else does, Philip said, climbing out of the truck and heading toward the house. He loved Finn dearly, but he doubted his brother could keep news this big to himself.
Philip crossed to the house and climbed the porch steps. His hand froze on the doorknob, a sudden wave of nervousness washing over him.
This is it, he murmured. Once I walk through this door, they’ll know.
I don’t know if it’ll be the instant you open the door. But they’ll know something’s up the instant they see your face, his bear said with a chuckle.
What’s wrong with my face? Philip rubbed his hand over his face, worried he’d been walking around with dirt smudged across his cheeks.
Nothing’s wrong with it, his bear assured him. But you’ve got that struck by lightning look written all over it.
I feel like I’ve been struck by lightning, Philip admitted, drawing a deep breath before pushing the door open.
He stepped inside, and the familiar scent of his mother’s cooking greeted him, but he kept his gaze fixed on the scrubbed-clean floorboards. Through his lowered lashes, he could see his parents at the kitchen table, sharing a bottle of their latest vintage, two half-empty glasses between them.
“Philip?” His mother’s voice carried a note of concern. “Is everything all right?”
Told you, his bear said smugly.
Philip nodded wordlessly as he bent to remove his boots, setting them carefully by the door.
“Are you sure?” Leanne pressed, her brow furrowing. “You look like you’ve seen a ghost.”
Not a ghost. His bear practically purred. Our mate.
“Something...something happened,” Philip managed, his voice catching in his throat.
Hugo stood quickly, alarm spreading across his features. “There’s been an accident?”
“No, no,” Philip assured him hastily. He crossed to the table and sank into an empty chair, the room tilting slightly around him as he tried to gather his thoughts.
“Oh my,” Hugo murmured, dropping back into his seat.
“What is it?” Leanne glanced between her husband and son.
Hugo’s expression softened. “It’s happened again.”
“What has happened again?” Leanne asked, though something in her eyes suggested she already knew.
“Our son has found his mate,” Hugo said simply.
Leanne’s eyes widened. “He has?” She turned to Philip, hope blooming on her face. “You have?”
Philip nodded, a smile finally breaking through. “I have.”
Hugo clapped his hands together with delight. “I knew it!”
“How could you possibly know?” Leanne asked, though her cheeks had turned a delicate shade of pink.
Hugo reached across the table and took his wife’s hand. “That look on his face. It’s the same one I wore when I first met you.”
“The same one Kris had,” Philip added, finding his voice at last. “I never understood it until now.”
Leanne squeezed Hugo’s hand before releasing it to pour Philip a glass of wine. “Tell us everything. Who is she? How did you meet?”
Philip accepted the glass gratefully, taking a sip to steady himself. The rich notes of blackberry and oak grounded him, reminding him of his place in this family, in this legacy.
“Her name is Elsbeth,” he said, the name feeling like honey on his tongue. “She bought the Old Larson place. She’s starting a flower farm.”
“The Old Larson place?” Hugo’s eyebrows shot up. “That’s going to take some work…”
“I believe she’s more than equal to the task,” Philip said, a note of pride coloring his voice. “You should see her sketches. She knows exactly what she’s doing.”
“And how exactly did you end up at the Old Larson place?” Leanne asked, leaning forward with interest.
Don’t tell her about the surprise anniversary party, his bear reminded him.
I won’t, Philip replied.
Just checking, his bear said. Right now, you look like you’ve been hit over the head by a bag full of fairy dust.
Philip chuckled, shaking his head. “Finn. He accidentally sent me a text meant for himself. About meeting Elsbeth to discuss him drawing up plans for the farm.”
Hugo laughed, the sound warm and full of unbridled happiness for his son. “That boy and his mix-ups! First Kris and Cassia, now you and Elsbeth.”
“Maybe we should put him in charge of matchmaking for all your brothers—and your cousins,” Leanne suggested with a twinkle in her eye.
“Why stop there?” Hugo said. “He could be the town matchmaker!”
“So does she know?” Leanne asked.
“No,” Philip admitted quietly, his fingers tracing the rim of his wineglass. “At least not as far as I know. I mean, about us being mates. Or shifters. Or any of it.”
His parents exchanged a knowing look, as they often did. They were so attuned to each other that Philip and his brothers had often joked they could read each other’s thoughts.
“Ah,” Hugo nodded. “So you’re taking it slow.”
“I have to,” Philip said. “She’s new to Bear Creek. Starting a business. The last thing she needs is…”
“A bear shifter declaring his undying love?” Leanne finished, her lips twitching with amusement.
Philip felt heat rise to his cheeks. “Something like that.”
We would do it with more dignity than that, his bear grumbled.
We might…when my head clears, Philip said, rubbing his temples. His bear might be right about having a head full of fairy dust. It was as if he were floating along on a cloud.
“So, what’s the plan?” Hugo asked, always looking for a practical solution.
“I’m going back tomorrow,” Philip replied. “She has a spring somewhere on her property. I offered to help find it.”
“Smart,” Hugo approved. “Lead with your strengths. Show her your talents.”
“You’ll need your strength if you’re going to be wooing a mate.” Leanne stood and moved to the oven, pulling out a covered plate. The rich aroma of pot roast and roasted vegetables filled the kitchen as she set it before Philip.
“I’m not wooing…” Philip began, then stopped at his mother’s raised eyebrow. “Fine. Maybe I am.”
A wooing we will go! His bear purred with satisfaction.
“I just don’t want to blow it with Elsbeth,” Philip said after taking a few bites.
“Why would you?” Leanne asked as she sat back down and picked up her wine glass, watching her son eat.
Philip paused, his fork hovering over his plate. “I don’t know. But Elsbeth seemed...sad at times. Like she’s carrying a heavy burden.”
Leanne’s expression softened. “New beginnings often come from painful endings.”
Philip nodded, remembering the way Elsbeth had touched the forget-me-nots, the shadow that had passed over her face.
“Just be patient,” Hugo advised. “When she’s ready, she’ll share her burdens with you.”
“And until then?” Philip asked.
“Until then, you be the steady ground beneath her feet,” Leanne said simply. “Sometimes that’s all anyone needs to bloom.”
Philip smiled at his mother’s choice of words. How fitting for his flower-farming mate.
“I can do that,” Philip said, warmth spreading through his chest at his mother’s wisdom. “Be the steady ground.”
“And find her spring,” Hugo added with a wink. “Nothing says ‘I’m your mate’ like finding water.”
Philip laughed despite himself. “I’m not sure that’s in any of the old legends.”
“Should be,” his father replied, raising his glass. “To Philip and Elsbeth.”
“To Philip and Elsbeth,” Leanne echoed, her eyes shining with unshed tears of joy.
Philip raised his own glass, the wine catching the light. “To new beginnings,” he murmured.
“So, do you have any clue where this spring is?” Hugo asked as he set his glass down.
“Nope. I just hope I can find it for her,” Philip replied, his mind already mapping the contours of Elsbeth’s land, trying to pinpoint where water might flow beneath the surface.
His bear stirred restlessly. We will find it. It’ll be our gift to her.
“You will,” Leanne said with such certainty that Philip couldn’t help but believe her. “And speaking of gifts, I think I might put together a little welcome basket for your Elsbeth. Some preserves, maybe some of that lavender honey from last season’s harvest.”
“Mom,” Philip protested weakly, “she’s not my Elsbeth.”
Not yet, his bear added smugly. But soon.
“Semantics.” Leanne waved her hand dismissively. “Fate has spoken. She’s yours, you’re hers. The rest is just...formalities.”
Hugo chuckled. “Your mother has always been a romantic.”
“And you’ve always pretended not to be,” Leanne countered with a fond smile.
“Well, at least when Philip has found this spring at the Old Larson place and Elsbeth has grown her flowers, I’ll know where to go for the perfect bouquet for my wife.” He caught hold of her hand and kissed it.
Philip watched his parents’ easy banter, the way they moved in perfect harmony even after so many years together. This was what being mates meant. This enduring connection.
It was what awaited him with Elsbeth, if he could just be patient enough to let it unfold naturally.
“I think I’ll turn in early,” Philip said, finishing the last bite of his dinner. “Tomorrow’s going to be a big day.”
“Of course it is,” Leanne agreed, standing to take his empty plate. She pressed a kiss to the top of his head as she passed. “Sleep well, my son.”
“I’ll try.” But as Philip climbed the stairs to his bedroom, exhaustion and excitement battled within him. He’d barely closed his door before his bear was pacing restlessly inside him.
We should go back tonight, his bear insisted. Just to check on her.
You mean to check she’s real? Philip said.
His bear huffed. The longer we are apart, the more I begin to worry that it was all a dream.
Then let’s go.
Philip headed back downstairs and out of the front door, avoiding the kitchen, not wanting to talk to anyone. All he wanted was to run on four paws to the Old Larson place and bask in the nearness of their mate.
As he closed the door behind him, he shifted, the air crackling and popping as he let go of the world. An instant later, his bear took his place and ran through the vineyard, the vines a blur as he dodged between the neat rows. The night welcomed him like an old friend, the darkness no barrier to his keen vision. His paws barely touched the ground as he raced, each powerful stride carrying him closer to her.
The vineyard gave way to forest as he climbed higher into the mountains, taking the most direct route to the Old Larson place. Pine needles cushioned his steps, branches parting as if making way for his urgent journey. The forest itself seemed to whisper encouragement, the rustling leaves urging him onward.
Go to her, they seemed to say. Run, bear, run.
His heart thundered in his chest, matching the rhythm of his pounding paws. The cool night air filled his lungs as he ran faster than he had in years, perhaps faster than he ever had before. This was no casual lope through familiar territory. This was purpose. This was destiny.
As he crested the final ridge, her presence hit him like a physical force. Elsbeth. His mate. The recognition surged through him, primal and undeniable. He pushed harder, muscles burning with exertion, lungs heaving.
The trees thinned, revealing the moonlit expanse of the Old Larson place. Her property. Their future. He slowed at the edge of the wild meadow, suddenly conscious of his thundering heart and labored breathing. He needed to calm himself, to savor this moment.
Philip’s bear moved with deliberate steps now, crossing through knee-high grasses and wildflowers that bent gently beneath his weight. Bachelor’s buttons and forget-me-nots brushed against his fur as he padded forward.
The farmhouse stood silhouetted against the starry sky, a single light glowing from an upstairs window. Her window. He knew without question which room held his mate. He could feel her presence like a beacon calling him home.
He stopped in the middle of the field, sitting back on his haunches, content for now just to be near her. To stand guard over her dreams. To breathe the same air.
Movement caught his attention as the curtain shifted. His breath caught as Elsbeth appeared at the window, her silhouette framed by the soft light behind her. She was looking directly at him.
Their eyes met across the moonlit field, and in that moment, Philip knew with bone-deep certainty that she felt it, too.
The connection.
The pull.
The mate bond that hummed between them like a living thing.
A profound calm washed over him as the curtain slowly slid back into place.
She had seen him. Known him.
That was enough for tonight.