Alfie stood rooted to the spot long after Marion’s car had disappeared around the bend. Even without seeing her, he could sense her presence, a gentle tug that seemed to pull him in the direction her car had taken.
Did you hear her admit she was glad Finn sent the message by mistake? his bear asked, basking in the afterglow of their mate’s company.
I did, Alfie said with a contented sigh.
“It’s good to see you so happy, Alfie,” came Daisy’s voice from behind him.
Alfie spun around. He’d been so engrossed in his mate that he had not sensed Daisy approaching.
That’s what happens when you find your mate, his bear said happily.
“Thanks, Daisy,” he said, unable to stop the grin that spread across his face. “And thanks for taking charge of things this morning.”
“It’s the least I could do,” Daisy replied, moving to stand beside him. “You’ve been good to me, Alfie.”
Alfie looked down at her, this woman who had always been so much more than an employee. “Hey, I don’t know how I would have ever managed without you. You have taught me so much over the years.”
Daisy leaned closer and rested her head on his shoulder, her silver hair catching the sunlight.
“We make a good team.” She paused, her voice trembling faintly.
“When my husband passed, and we had to sell this place, it felt as if...” She cleared her throat and sniffed.
“I think if I’d had to leave the garden center, it would have felt like two deaths. ”
Alfie slipped an arm around her shoulders and hugged her. “Do you ever think you might find love again?”
Daisy chuckled and slapped his chest playfully. “I know what you are doing, Alfred Thornberg.”
Alfie chuckled, feeling the familiar warmth of their friendship. “I think you and Welland are perfectly suited, and I think you would make each other very happy.”
Daisy sniffed again and said, “I don’t want to spoil a good thing.”
“But what if that good thing could be a great thing?” Alfie replied, thinking of the transformation he’d witnessed in Marion and Charlie today. How a chance meeting had bloomed into something full of promise.
“And what about your great thing?” Daisy asked, tilting her head to look up at him with those keen eyes that missed nothing.
“Marion and Charlie are...incredible,” Alfie replied, the words feeling inadequate for the emotions swelling in his chest.
“Your mom and dad are going to be overjoyed,” Daisy said. “That’s three down, three to go.”
“Halfway there,” Alfie said, shaking his head in wonder. “Before Kris met Cassia, my mom was starting to believe none of her six sons would find their mates. But look at us now.”
“Have you told her?” Daisy asked.
“No, not yet. I haven’t had the chance,” Alfie admitted.
“Then why don’t you go and tell them? I can handle things here, and I’m sure they would love to hear the news from you,” Daisy said, straightening up.
“Do you mind?” Alfie asked, even though he knew the answer already.
“No, you go.” She straightened up. “Welland and I can handle things here.” She cracked a smile, and Alfie kissed her on the cheek.
“Thanks, Daisy.”
“Go,” she whispered. And he did, sprinting back to his truck.
She is like a second mother to us, his bear said.
She is, Alfie agreed. He was so lucky Daisy had become a part of his life, a guiding hand that had helped make Bear Creek Garden Center the place it was today.
Alfie reached his truck and got in, his mind already racing ahead to the vineyard, to his parents’ reaction. As he drove away, he could still sense Marion, that invisible thread connecting them growing taut with distance but never breaking.
When he reached the road, he was tempted to turn right and follow her, to close the distance between them. But instead, he turned left and headed home to the Thornberg Vineyard. Yes, even though he had not lived at the vineyard for decades, he still thought of it as home.
Our third home , his bear chuckled.
Alfie arched an eyebrow. Yeah, our cabin, the vineyard, the garden center… But now, his home would be wherever his mate was.
His mate.
He drove along the mountain roads whistling, his heart as light as the spring breeze dancing through the trees.
Life is good, his bear said, stretching contentedly inside him.
Life is amazing, Alfie corrected, feeling the truth of it down to his bones.
His bear rumbled in agreement. The weight of longing that had been his constant companion had lifted, replaced by a carefree sense of anticipation of all that was to come.
And there was so much to come. So many memories to make with his mate. So much time to get to know her. Because this was the beginning of forever.
Alfie slowed the truck as he reached the vineyard, drinking in the sight of the neat rows of vines stretching across the hillside.
The hacienda-style house nestled among them looked just as it always had, with its warm stone walls, terracotta roof tiles, and the wide porch where they often gathered for family dinners on summer evenings.
It was all exactly the same, and yet everything felt different.
No, Alfie realized. The vineyard hadn’t changed. He had.
He pulled up to the house and parked, cutting the engine. Through his open window, he could smell the distinctive scent of the vineyard, rich earth, and greenery seasoned with the faint sweetness of developing grapes.
As he stepped out of the truck, he sensed his mother before he saw her.
A lifetime of connection allowed him to pinpoint her location among the vines.
His father was farther along the same row, the two of them working in the comfortable silence of mates who had been together so long, that words were not always necessary to communicate.
Leanne Thornberg looked up as if she’d sensed him, too, her face breaking into a smile that quickly shifted to concern. She pulled off her gardening gloves and hurried toward him, her movements still supple despite decades of physical labor.
“Alfie? Is everything all right?” she asked, her eyes scanning him for any sign of trouble.
“It is,” Alfie said, suddenly finding it difficult to put his joy into words. How could he explain what had happened? How could he make her understand the magnitude of this day?
“Are you sure?” Leanne pressed, reaching up to touch his cheek. “Only it’s a Saturday, your busiest day. And you are here.”
Alfie caught her hand, squeezing it gently. “Mom, I met her today.”
“Her?” Leanne’s brow furrowed, then her eyes widened as understanding dawned. “Her? Your mate?”
Alfie nodded, a laugh bubbling up from deep inside him. “Yes. My mate. Her name is Marion.”
Leanne’s hands flew to her mouth as her eyes filled with tears. “Oh, Alfie! That’s wonderful!”
She threw her arms around him, and Alfie hugged her tightly, lifting her slightly off the ground in his enthusiasm. When he set her down, she was laughing and crying at once, her hands fluttering between wiping her eyes and gripping his arms as if to assure herself he was real.
“Hugo!” she called over her shoulder. “Hugo, come quickly!”
Alfie’s father looked up from his work, concern crossing his weathered face at his wife’s call. He dropped his pruning shears and hurried toward them, his long strides eating up the distance between the rows of vines.
“What is it? What’s happened?” Hugo demanded as he reached them, his eyes moving from his wife’s tear-streaked face to his son’s beaming one.
“Tell him,” Leanne urged, her voice trembling with emotion.
“Dad,” Alfie said, reaching out to clasp his father’s shoulder. “I found my mate today.”
Hugo Thornberg stood perfectly still for a moment, processing the words. Then his face transformed, decades seeming to fall away as joy overtook him. “Your mate? Today?”
“This morning,” Alfie confirmed. “At the garden center.”
“Oh, my!” Hugo wrapped him in a bear hug that would have crushed a normal man, his deep laugh rumbling through both of them. “I knew it would happen. I always knew.”
When they pulled apart, Hugo kept one arm around Alfie’s shoulders, his other hand reaching for Leanne’s. “Tell us everything. Who is she? What’s she like?”
“Her name is Marion,” Alfie said, the name sweet on his tongue. “She came to pick up plants for the community garden project. There was a mix-up with the messages—”
“Finn,” Hugo and Leanne said in unison, exchanging knowing looks.
“Yes,” Alfie laughed. “Another one of his famous matchmaking mix-ups.”
“That boy.” Leanne shook her head, but her expression was filled with love. “He’s got a gift, whether or not he wants it.”
“Does he know?” Hugo asked.
“He does,” Alfie confirmed.
“I thought he looked a little shifty over lunch.” Hugo chuckled. “He kept that to himself.”
“I think he’s worried that when words gets out he has helped another brother meet his mate, he’s going to be inundated with requests for matchmaking mix-ups.”
“Well, I’ll put in my request to him now. I have three more sons that need a mate, including Finn himself,” Leanne said. “Not to mention your cousins.”
“And the rest of Bear Creek,” Hugo said. “But enough of that. Come.” Hugo guided them toward the house. “We need drinks. This calls for celebration.”
As they walked up the path to the hacienda, Alfie told them everything about meeting his mate. How he’d sensed Marion’s presence before he’d seen her, the instant connection he’d felt, the way Charlie had warmed to him over butterflies and worms.
“Charlie?” Leanne asked, her expression softening further. “Her son?”
“Her nephew,” Alfie explained. “She’s raising him. I don’t know the full story yet, but I think... I think they’ve been through something difficult.”
Hugo nodded thoughtfully as he held the door open for them. “Many who come to Bear Creek are looking for healing.”
“And find it,” Leanne added, squeezing Alfie’s arm. “Just as you will help them find it.”
Inside, the house was cool and dim after the bright sunshine, and so familiar. He had such happy memories of his childhood, and he hoped he could help give Charlie that same carefree feeling.
We will, his bear said.
Hugo went to the cabinet where they kept the special-occasion bottles, selecting one of the vineyard’s best vintages.
“I was saving this for something important,” he said, examining the label with satisfaction. “I can’t think of anything more important than this.”
As his father opened the wine and his mother gathered glasses, Alfie leaned against the kitchen counter, watching them move around each other with the easy synchronicity of decades living together.
This was what he wanted with Marion. This deep understanding, this partnership that grew stronger with each passing year.
“When do we get to meet her?” Leanne asked, setting the glasses on the table.
“Wednesday,” Alfie said. “I’m bringing her and Charlie here to collect logs for the bug hotel we’re making at the garden project.”
“A bug hotel?” Hugo’s eyebrows rose as he poured the ruby-red wine.
“Charlie likes insects,” Alfie explained, feeling a rush of affection for the boy. “I thought it would be a good way to help him feel connected to the garden.”
“And to you,” Leanne observed shrewdly, handing him a glass.
Alfie nodded, accepting the wine. “I want him to like me. To know he can trust me. And to understand that he is as much a part of my life as Marion.”
“You’ll get there, son,” Hugo said, raising his glass.
“To Marion and Charlie,” Leanne said, lifting her glass. “And to our son, finding his happiness at last.”
“To Marion and Charlie,” Hugo echoed. “May they find their place in our family.”
Alfie touched his glass to theirs. “To family,” he added.
As they sipped the wine—rich with notes of blackberry and oak, the culmination of years of patient blending—Alfie felt a profound sense of love and belonging wash over him.
This was his heritage, his roots. And now he had the chance to share it with Marion and Charlie, to show them what it meant to belong somewhere, to someone.
To us. His bear rumbled contentedly inside him, already considering Marion and Charlie as theirs to protect, to cherish. And Alfie was in complete agreement with his other half.
Life wasn’t just good. Life was extraordinary.