Page 2 of The Bear’s Second Chance Mate (Bear Creek Forever: Thornberg Vineyard #5)

The rabbit sat still in the crate, its sides rising and falling in a steady rhythm.

Oli kneeled beside it on the grass, his small fingers reaching carefully through the wire door to stroke the fur along its side.

He murmured as he touched it. Facts about rabbit diets, how fast their hearts could beat, and how they couldn’t sweat.

As he spoke, he kept his voice steady and unusually calm, especially considering he was in the presence of two strangers.

Not that Stanley felt like a stranger. No. In fact, the opposite was true. June felt as if she had known him all her life. As if he were her destiny.

How crazy was that?

Very.

Maybe Stanley made everyone feel that way. He’d certainly had an effect on Oli, too.

This was the most settled she’d seen her son all day. No pacing. No hand-flapping. No sharp breaths or clenched jaw. Just a quiet stillness.

As she stood there, June became aware of the late afternoon sun filtering through Mrs. Abernathy’s grape arbor, dappling the lawn with shifting gold and shadow. The mountain breeze ruffled Oli’s hair. Somewhere overhead, a bird sang its sweetest song.

To most people, it would be nothing, a fleeting moment in a stranger’s backyard, but to June, it felt like stepping into a pocket of calm. A rare and precious thing.

She turned slightly and found Stanley watching, too, his posture relaxed, hands hooked loosely on his hips.

Their eyes met. He gave a small, lopsided smile. Not wide, not flashy, but it did something to her.

She found herself smiling back, a wordless thank you in the curve of her lips.

For once, she didn’t feel like she was holding her life together with duct tape. The feeling was unfamiliar. Disorienting, even. But good.

“Well,” said Mrs. Abernathy, breaking the silence. “I’d have offered to catch the bunny myself, but these days I leave the sprinting to those without replacement hips.”

June smiled, letting herself be swept along by Mrs. Abernathy’s easy chatter and the crooked sunhat that bobbed every time she gestured. There was something solid about the woman’s presence, something that made June feel a little steadier on her feet.

Mrs. Abernathy’s attention flicked to Stanley, a sly glint sparking behind her glasses. “Don’t you look pleased with yourself. I bet your bear’s tail is wagging like a golden retriever.”

June’s smile faltered slightly. Bear? Tail wagging? What an odd thing to say.

Stanley cleared his throat, a flush creeping up his neck. “Mrs. Abernathy, I think you might be…”

“Mixing up my metaphors?” the older woman said with an arch of her brow.

“Something like that.” Then he chuckled lightly, but it sounded forced. “You know I like a happy ending,” he said, nodding toward the captured rabbit. “I’d hate to think of this little fella out here all alone at night. But I’ll get him settled at the store and then try to find his owners.”

“Oh yes, we all like a happy ending.” Mrs. Abernathy hummed, clearly amused.

June got the intense sense that she was missing something. That there was a secret message in Mrs. Abernathy’s words. A message that had caused Stanley to tense, as if he were afraid of what she might say next.

Goodness, she was reading too much into this sudden encounter with the handsome pet store owner and her Aunt Barb’s neighbor.

Mrs. Abernathy obviously knew Stanley’s family well since she had taught them at school.

It was possible that Mrs. Abernathy’s remarks were directed toward some childhood misdemeanor, which Stanley found highly embarrassing.

Yes. That was it. A shared memory. Nothing to do with June.

She surprised herself as a twinge of disappointment pierced her heart. Did she want there to be more to it than that?

Oli looked up from the crate, his brows tugged together in concern. “Will the rabbit be okay at the pet store?”

Stanley glanced at June before crouching to meet Oli at eye level. “I’ll take good care of him. He’ll have a cozy pen with fresh hay and water,” he said gently. “Some treats, too. And I’ll check on him myself while we wait to see if someone comes looking for him.”

Oli considered this with the same seriousness he applied to most things that mattered. “He might be scared.”

“He probably is,” Stanley agreed. “But animals usually calm down when they feel safe. And he’ll be safe. I’ll make sure of it.”

June watched the exchange, something unfamiliar tugging inside her chest. There was no baby voice, no fake cheerfulness in Stanley’s tone.

He spoke to Oli the way she always wished more people would.

Respectfully, calmly, like he understood her son didn’t need coddling, just patience and reassurance.

“You really know a lot about animals,” Oli said, his voice lifting.

“I’ve been running Bear Creek Pets for a long while,” Stanley replied. “I’ve met just about every kind of furry, feathered, or scaled friend you can imagine.”

Oli’s eyes lit up. “Do you have guinea pigs?”

“A few,” Stanley said with a smile. “And a bearded dragon named Clive.”

June raised an eyebrow. “Clive?”

“Short for Sir Clive Scales-a-Lot.”

That earned a delighted snort from Oli, and even June couldn’t help smiling.

“You should come by the store and meet him,” Stanley said, standing slowly. “I could give you both a brief tour. No pressure, of course.”

Oli’s whole body seemed to lift. He looked lighter, younger, and June’s throat tightened as tears pricked her eyes. “Can we, Mom? Please? Can we go see Clive?”

June brushed her hand across her eyes before she laid a gentle hand on his shoulder. “Take a breath, love.”

As her son took a deep breath and exhaled slowly, June turned to Stanley, her tone shifting into the practical calm she used whenever assessing whether a place or situation might be too much for Oli.

“It’s kind of you to offer. What are your quietest times?

We’d want to come when it’s not too busy. ”

Stanley nodded, clearly understanding more than most. “Late afternoons on Tuesdays and Thursdays are usually the quietest times. Fewer customers, and the animals are always most relaxed after their lunch.”

He wasn’t like the men her mother or aunt had ever nudged her toward.

He wasn’t the kind of man who demanded attention or tried to be the center of things. Even after he caught the rabbit, he did not play the hero. He wasn’t trying to impress anyone. He was just…calm. Solid. Present.

And that, more than anything, made her feel a little off-balance.

“Tuesday afternoon would work,” June added, the words tumbling out of her mouth before she could second-guess herself. “Oli doesn’t have occupational therapy that day.”

Stanley nodded, his expression brightening. “Perfect. We close at five, but I know the owner will stay longer for special visitors.” He gave a wink, and Mrs. Abernathy snorted under her breath.

But June’s attention switched to Oli as he bounced slightly on his toes, a small, contained movement that June recognized as his trying-to-stay-calm-but-bursting-with-excitement stance.

Mrs. Abernathy stood from her lawn chair with a soft grunt. “Well, this has been more excitement than my garden’s seen in months. Unless you count that squirrel that got drunk on my fermented crab apples last fall.”

“We should let you get back to your evening,” June said, suddenly aware they’d commandeered the woman’s backyard for nearly half an hour.

Mrs. Abernathy waved a dismissive hand. “Nonsense. This was better than my usual television lineup. Besides,” she added with a wink at Stanley, “some things are worth watching unfold.”

June pretended not to notice the comment or the slight flush that rose to Stanley’s cheeks. She turned to Oli instead. “Time to say goodbye to the rabbit. We should head home for dinner.”

“He needs a name,” Oli said abruptly.

“A name,” June echoed.

“Yes,” Oli said. “We can’t just call him the rabbit.”

“No, we can’t,” Stanley agreed. “Do you have a name in mind?”

“Herbert,” Oli replied with certainty. “He looks like a Herbert.”

“Then Herbert it is.” As they left through the side gate, Stanley paused. “My truck’s just down the street. I should get this little guy settled.”

“We’ll walk with you,” Oli said immediately. It was not a question but a declaration. One June decided to let slip.

“Okay, then we have to say goodbye and let Stanley take the rabbit…Herbert, back to the store,” June said firmly. It was far better to set out the sequence of events so that Oli knew the boundaries.

“Okay,” Oli agreed, walking beside Stanley, his gaze darting between the man and the crate he carried.

“What does Clive eat?” Oli asked as they stepped onto the sidewalk. “Does he have special lights? Do the guinea pigs live near him, or would that be scary for them? Does your store have fish, too? And do rabbits like music because I read some animals do, but some don’t, and…”

“Oli,” June started, her automatic response to rein in the rapid-fire questions.

But Stanley just smiled, answering each one with consideration.

“Clive eats crickets and veggies. He has a special UVB lamp that gives him the right kind of light. The guinea pigs are on the other side of the store, so everyone feels safe. We do have fish…tropical ones that need warm water and some that live in cooler tanks.”

He paused, considering the last question with the same seriousness he’d given the others.

“I’m not sure if rabbits like music, but I sometimes play classical in the store, and they seem to relax with it.

Nothing too loud or with heavy bass, though.

We don’t want them bouncing off the sides of their pens. ”

June walked a few steps behind, watching the easy flow of conversation.

Stanley shortened his stride without making it obvious, matching Oli’s pace naturally.

When Oli stepped closer, gesturing with his hands as he spoke about a documentary he’d seen on desert animals, Stanley didn’t pull back or stiffen.

Most people did. They’d lean away, sometimes imperceptibly, sometimes obviously. They’d look to June with that help me expression or try to create more space. Stanley just listened, nodding at the right moments, asking questions that showed he was actually paying attention.

It wasn’t that he was perfect. June could see the moments when he wasn’t quite sure how to respond to one of Oli’s more scattered thoughts, or when he had to pause to find the right words.

But he tried. He stayed present. He didn’t check out or check his watch, or send June a need to be rescued signal.

The realization made the handsome pet store owner more attractive than his charm and rugged good looks.

When they reached the truck, Oli hesitated, his excitement faltering. “The rabbit will be by itself when he gets to the store. And what if he is afraid of the dark when it’s all so strange?”

Stanley set the crate down gently and crouched to Oli’s level, not too close, just enough to meet his eyes. “I’ll make sure he’s comfortable tonight. He’ll have fresh food, soft hay, and I’ll leave a little night light on, so he doesn’t feel scared in the dark.”

Oli considered this, his brow furrowed in serious thought. “You promise?”

“I promise,” Stanley said, his voice unwavering.

June felt her throat tighten unexpectedly.

Such a simple thing—a man keeping his word to a child about a stray rabbit.

Yet it hit her with unexpected force. How long had it been since anyone had shown such simple kindness to her son?

How many teachers and caregivers, and so-called friends, had dismissed Oli’s concerns or treated his questions as burdens?

Stanley was just...kind.

As he carefully placed the crate in the back seat of his truck, June stepped forward, drawn by an impulse she couldn’t fully explain.

“Thank you,” she said, her voice quieter than she’d intended.

Stanley looked up, genuine surprise in his expression. “For the rabbit?”

“For...everything.” The words felt inadequate, but they were all she had.

His smile made her heart skip a beat. “I’ll give you an update if you want.”

“Yes,” Oli said, and June took out her phone and added Stanley’s number to her contacts and then sent him a text, so he had hers.

“Got it,” Stanley said. “And I’ll see you on Tuesday.”

June hesitated, then nodded. “Tuesday.”

The smile that broke across Oli’s face, and the way he bounced on his toes again, this time letting his hands flap freely at his sides in his signature happiness gesture, made her chest ache. It was so good to see him happy.

“Tuesday it is,” Stanley confirmed, his eyes still on June’s. “No pressure if it doesn’t work out.”

But something in his tone, in the intense way he held her gaze, made June believe it mattered to him that they kept the date.

“Tuesday,” she agreed, surprised by how much she meant it. At how much she wanted to reassure him that they would not let him down.

As Stanley climbed into his truck and started the engine, June placed a hand on Oli’s shoulder, and they stood together and watched the taillights disappear around the corner.

“I like him,” Oli declared matter-of-factly. “He listens like you do.”

June squeezed his shoulder lightly. “Yes,” she said softly. “I think he does.”

“I like Herbert, too,” Oli said as they headed inside.

As she closed the door behind them, June felt a flicker of hope igniting within her. Maybe this was the start of their next chapter.

But would Stanley be part of their story?