The afternoon had passed in a haze of steady work. They had hauled the irrigation pipes into place and made a list of everything else they would need to make use of the spring.
He’d enjoyed the work. Seeing a plan come together had always given him a thrill. But the real thrill had come from seeing Elsbeth so darn happy.
Her smile makes me smile. Her laughter makes me laugh. His bear chuckled.
I know exactly what you mean, Philip said as he packed up the last of the tools into the back of his truck.
And now it’s time to go, his bear said forlornly.
Philip sighed as he shut the truck. But then he had an idea and turned to Elsbeth with a glint in his eye.
“You know what this calls for?” he asked.
Elsbeth lifted an eyebrow. “A nap?”
He chuckled. “Close. A reward.”
“A reward?” she repeated, her eyes narrowing.
He nodded seriously. “Yep. Hard work deserves celebration.”
“And what exactly did you have in mind?”
Philip just grinned and jerked his thumb toward the passenger seat of his truck. “Trust me.”
Elsbeth hesitated, and for a moment he thought she was going to say no.
“All right,” she said, casting him a sidelong look. “I’m trusting you. But you had better not let me down.”
“Never.” Philip’s grin widened, lighting up his whole face. “I promise you won’t regret it.”
He ran around to the driver’s side of the truck and climbed in. A moment later, they were driving away from the Old Larson place and heading toward town.
But as they drove, Philip’s excitement waned, leaving him feeling jittery.
Not nervous, exactly.
More...uneasy. Restless in his own skin.
The reason for that nervous energy threading through his veins sat beside him in the passenger seat. Elsbeth.
So close, all he had to do was reach out, and he’d touch her.
No wonder you are restless, his bear said, feeling that same jitteriness.
As she sat there with her hands loosely folded in her lap, gazing out at the passing landscape, she was so close and yet still so far.
Until he told her about their connection, about the bond they shared, she would never be close enough. Never know how deeply he felt about her. How the sight of her smile made his chest ache with longing.
One day. One day very soon, she’ll know, his bear purred, so content it made Philip smile without meaning to.
One day soon, Philip repeated. As long as she doesn’t ditch us when she learns the truth.
Why would she, when we fit together so perfectly? his bear rumbled lazily. Like she’s always been a part of us, a part of our lives.
Philip tightened his grip on the wheel, hoping his bear was right. He didn’t want to scare her off by moving too fast.
It’ll be fine, his bear assured him. Just remember—patience. Respect.
His bear was right. It was how he’d been raised and how he’d lived his life so far, and there was no reason to change.
Even if everything had changed, now that she was here.
Philip couldn’t help himself as he sneaked another glance at her, just to make sure she was real. That his mate wasn’t something he’d conjured from his imagination. Because she was everything he had always imagined.
She caught him looking and lifted a brow, an amused tilt to her mouth.
“You planning to tell me where we’re going?” she asked lightly.
Philip chuckled. “Nope. It’s a surprise.”
She mock-sighed, leaning back against the seat. “I’m not sure I signed up for surprise adventures when I agreed to trust you.”
“You’ll like it,” Philip said, grinning. “I promise.”
He watched the familiar fields roll by and allowed himself to relax a little.
This—being beside his mate, sharing these simple moments—felt better than anything he could remember.
Still, a flicker of doubt crept in.
He cleared his throat, glancing sideways at her again. What if he was wrong?
He’d promised her she’d like the surprise, but she had a lot of work to do at the farm. And he’d dragged her away from it.
For a second, uncertainty gnawed at him.
Maybe she’d only agreed because she was polite. Maybe she’d rather be elbow-deep in irrigation pipe than sitting here with him.
She needs this, his bear murmured. We know all too well that work isn’t everything.
You’re right, Philip conceded. Work used to be everything to me. The vineyard, vines, grapes, seasons. That was it. But now…
He tapped the wheel lightly with one finger, feeling the truth of it settle in his bones.
But now we have our mate, and everything has changed, his bear said happily.
The road wound through the low hills, the sun high and bright overhead.
Philip’s bear settled inside him, a steady presence as always. But now he felt different. Content.
No more waiting. No more wondering if they would ever find the other half that would make them whole, because she was here beside them. At last.
Philip’s chest swelled with hope.
Big, blooming, unstoppable hope.
Hope that they had found their elusive happily ever after, just like his brother Kris had in Cassia.
The small wooden sign came into view around the next bend, swinging gently in the summer breeze: Bear Creek Garden Center — Family Owned and Operated Since 1997.
Philip slowed the truck, gravel crunching under the tires as they pulled into the shaded lot.
Clusters of potted flowers flanked the drive, brilliant bursts of color spilling from the beds in front of the greenhouses. Beyond them, a labyrinth of shaded paths wound through rows of fruit trees, herbs, and seedlings.
It was impressive. He just hoped Elsbeth thought so, too.
Philip risked a sideways glance at Elsbeth, that same sense of nervousness threading through his veins.
“Wow,” she breathed, her eyes widening slightly as she took it all in. And then she smiled.
Relief loosened the knot in his stomach and washed away all his nerves. She likes it.
Told you, his bear rumbled smugly.
Yeah, yeah, Philip teased as he parked near the main greenhouse and cut the engine.
“Welcome to Bear Creek’s best-kept secret,” he said, grinning as he climbed out and rounded the truck to open her door.
Elsbeth slid out, looking around with open wonder. “This is...” She trailed off, shaking her head. “It’s beautiful.”
He didn’t say anything, he simply sat there and watched her soak it all in. The same way he wanted to soak her all in.
You know that sounds creepy, his bear grumbled.
Philip suppressed a laugh and instead said, “I thought maybe you could get some inspiration for your farm.” He gestured toward the rows of plants. “My brother Alfie owns this place, and what he doesn’t know about growing plants in this climate isn’t worth knowing.”
“Your brother?” Elsbeth asked. “How many brothers do you have?”
“Five.” Philip held up a hand with his fingers spread apart.
I think she knows how to count to five, his bear said.
“Five.” Elsbeth’s expression took on a wistful quality. “That must be nice. I’m an only child.”
Philip caught the note of longing in her voice. “It is nice. Noisy and chaotic sometimes, but nice.”
Wait until she learns she’s part of that noisy and chaotic family now, his bear chuckled.
I don’t know what might scare her more, Philip replied. Learning that she’s the mate of a bear shifter, or that she’s part of the Thornberg clan now.
But in truth, both he and his bear loved every one of his brothers and their extended family. He couldn’t imagine being an only child. They were a constant in his life. Always had been. Always would be.
He gestured toward the entrance. “Come on, let’s go inside. I want to introduce you to Alfie.”
As they headed toward the main entrance, Philip spotted a familiar figure near the loading dock, stacking trays of seedling flats onto a wooden cart.
Alfie. Broad-shouldered, with untamable hair, wearing a T-shirt that said Talk Dirt to Me in faded letters.
Philip lifted a hand in greeting.
Alfie looked up, squinting into the sunlight, then grinned when he recognized them.
“Well, well, if it isn’t my favorite brother,” Alfie called, wiping his hands on his jeans and crossing the lot to meet them.
“He says that to all his brothers,” Philip murmured to Elsbeth.
“How adorable,” Elsbeth replied.
I have never considered Alfie adorable, his bear grumbled.
Alfie clapped Philip on the back hard enough to jostle him. “Didn’t expect to see you here on a workday, slacker.”
Philip laughed. “Dragged myself away from the vineyard for a worthy cause.”
“So I can see.” Alfie’s gaze slid curiously to Elsbeth, one brow lifting.
Maybe this was a mistake, his bear said.
It’ll be fine, Philip assured him. Alfie might be a joker, but he would never do anything to harm Philip’s relationship with his mate.
“Alfie, this is Elsbeth,” he said, voice steady. “She’s new to Bear Creek. She bought the Old Larson place, just up the ridge.”
“I know it well.” Alfie wiped his hand again on his jeans and offered it to her. “It’s good to meet you. Any friend of Philip’s is a friend of ours.”
Elsbeth smiled shyly as she shook his hand. “It’s good to meet you, too. This place is amazing.”
Alfie beamed, like she’d handed him a trophy. “Thanks. It’s my little kingdom of chaos.”
Philip chuckled. “He’s being modest. Alfie’s got the best plant stock in the valley.”
Alfie scratched the back of his neck, looking pleased but embarrassed. “I try. You know how it is. You plant things, you hope they take root.”
The words were light, but something in Alfie’s tone caught Philip’s attention. A hint of weariness, maybe. Or loneliness.
He needs a mate, too, his bear said quietly.
We need Finn to work his accidental magic again—for all our brothers.
“I’m planning a cut flower farm,” Elsbeth said enthusiastically. “My focus is on hardy perennials, with some annuals to fill in gaps. I’d love your advice on some local native varieties for the pollinators.”
Alfie’s grin widened. “I am all yours. If you need help, I’m mulch -obliged to offer my expertise.”
“Oh, goodness,” Philip said with a roll of his eyes.
“What?” Alfie asked innocently.
“You know what,” Philip retorted.
“Take no notice of him.” Alfie nodded toward his brother. “Feel free to leaf through my knowledge. I’m here to help plant ideas.”
Elsbeth covered her mouth with her hand as she burst into laughter. “I would love to leaf through your knowledge.”
“See?” Alfie shot Philip a withering look. Then he linked arms with Elsbeth. “Tell me your plans.”
“Roses. Lots of roses.” Elsbeth nodded eagerly, clearly in her element. “I was thinking of adding peonies and delphiniums once I get the beds established.”
Alfie gave an approving grunt. “You know your stuff. Watch your planting times. June’s usually safe for tender stuff, but don’t rush early spring. Let the soil warm.”
“I won’t,” Elsbeth promised. “I learned that lesson the hard way the year when my mom lost half her seedlings.”
Philip watched her with undisguised admiration. Even carrying the heartache of her loss, Elsbeth hadn’t lost her passion. Or her determination.
And she knows what she’s doing. This isn’t some ill-thought-out attempt to fulfill her mom’s wishes, his bear rumbled in pure approval.
Alfie opened his mouth to reply, but was interrupted by the sharp trill of the garden center’s landline from inside the main office.
He grimaced. “Duty calls. Help yourself to a wander. You’ll want to see the greenhouses, anyway. Oh, and make sure you get Welland to hook you up with coffee and cake. Best-kept secret in Bear Creek.”
With a quick wave, Alfie jogged off toward the office, already answering the phone before he disappeared through the door.
“So the best-kept secret in Bear Creek is the coffee and cake?” Elsbeth asked.
“Shall we have a look around, and then you can judge for yourself?” Philip asked.
“That sounds like a plan.” She smiled up at him in a way that made his heart somersault.
I could do a somersault, too, his bear said happily.
Me, too, Philip replied, relieved that his surprise had been so well received.
“Where first?” Philip asked.
“Roses,” Elsbeth said with a dreamy smile. “I’d love to see the roses.”
Philip nodded and glanced around. “This way.”
He led her through an archway covered in climbing vines, their path winding between rows of vibrant blooms. The sweet perfume of flowers filled the air, mingling with the earthy scent of rich soil and plant life. As they walked, Elsbeth paused occasionally to examine tags or run her fingers gently along delicate petals.
“Oh, look at these!” She stopped at a display of heritage roses, their blooms full and lush in various shades of pink, cream, and deep crimson. “Aren’t they beautiful?”
“They are,” he agreed, not looking at the plants at all. Instead, Philip found himself watching her face rather than the flowers. The way her eyes lit up, the gentle curve of her lips as she smiled. To Philip these were far more captivating than any rose.
She glanced up, catching his gaze, and a blush spread across her cheeks. For a moment, they simply looked at each other, something unspoken passing between them.
“What’s next?” she asked as she straightened up.
“I know just the place,” Philip said, offering his arm. “The perennial garden is this way.”
Elsbeth slipped her hand into the crook of his elbow, the gesture feeling as natural as breathing. As they strolled deeper into the garden center, Philip pointed out his favorite varieties, sharing little tidbits of knowledge, which his bear found amusing.
Are you worried our mate might be more impressed with Alfie’s knowledge of plants than ours? his bear asked.
No. I know Alfie knows more about a wider variety of plants, Philip replied.
But you have a specialist subject, his bear said with understanding. You just haven’t had the chance to share it with our mate yet.
I’d love to show her the vineyard and tell her about the vines, Philip admitted.
And I’d love to show her me and tell her about the mating bond, his bear replied.
“These lavender plants are particularly hardy for our climate,” he explained, guiding her down a shaded path lined with fragrant herbs. “They’ll bloom twice if you prune them right after the first flowering.”
“My mom always said lavender was good for the soul,” Elsbeth said, brushing her fingers against the silvery foliage.
Our mate is good for our soul, Philip’s bear said.
“Your mom talked a lot of sense,” Philip murmured, his voice gruff as sorrow flickered across her face. “Sorry, I shouldn’t have…”
“No.” Elsbeth turned to face him. “I like that you talk about her. She is the reason why I am here.” She looked down at her feet, and for a long moment silence stretched out between them. “I was thinking of naming the farm after her.”
“You should. What was her name?” Philip asked gently.
Elsbeth’s eyes misted. “Rose. Her name was Rose.”
“Rose’s Blooms,” Philip suggested, the words coming naturally. “Or maybe just Rose Farm.”
“Rose Farm,” Elsbeth repeated, testing the words. “I like that. Simple but meaningful.”
They wandered through a tunnel of climbing clematis, its star-shaped blooms creating a canopy of purple and white overhead.
“It’s like walking through a fairy tale,” Elsbeth said as she stopped and looked up at the flowers.
Then she looked at him, and the temptation to pull her into his arms and hold her close, to kiss her lips and murmur sweet words in her ear, was overwhelming.
Instead, he asked, “How about that coffee and cake?”
“Yes.” Elsbeth laughed and twirled around, arms outstretched. “I think we’ve earned it.”
“This way.” Philip led her over to the café, a cozy outdoor space under a sprawling pergola dripping with wisteria.
Behind the small counter stood Welland, a thin, wiry man with a shock of white hair and a perpetual twinkle in his eye. As if he knew the secret to eternal happiness.
“Philip Thornberg,” Welland called out, wiping his hands on a towel. “Come to corrupt another innocent soul with my lemon cake?”
Philip grinned. “Wouldn’t dream of it. This one’s entirely capable of corrupting herself.”
Elsbeth flushed but smiled, shaking her head.
“Coffee and cake, then?” Welland asked, already reaching for two floral mismatched cups.
“Yes, please,” Philip said. “The biggest slice you’ve got. Don’t you think?”
Elsbeth nodded. “I believe we deserve a big slice of cake.”
“A woman after my heart,” Philip said lightly.
More like the woman who owns our heart, his bear said.
“You go find yourselves a seat,” Welland said. “And I’ll bring it over.”
“Thanks, Welland.” Philip turned around and scanned the area. It was late afternoon, and the café was quiet, so they had their pick of tables. “Over there?”
“Sure.” Elsbeth followed him to a small wrought-iron table tucked under the fragrant flowers. “This is perfect.” She closed her eyes and breathed in deeply.
Oh, it is, Philip’s bear agreed.
The perfect end to a perfect day.
And the perfect start to his life with Elsbeth.