Page 22 of The Bear’s Second Chance Mate (Bear Creek Forever: Thornberg Vineyard #5)

Stanley couldn’t wipe the smile off his face. It was as if, just like his mom always warned him when he was a kid, the wind had shifted and left him with a smile permanently plastered there.

We have plenty to smile about, his bear said.

That we do, Stanley agreed. We surely are blessed where fate is concerned.

Fate has brought us the perfect mate, his bear agreed.

With a smile plastered on his face, Stanley moved from cage to cage, straightening water bowls and refilling feed containers. It was late afternoon, and soon he would see his mate again.

His mate . It still hadn’t completely sunk in that he had met her at last.

He paused at the chinchilla’s enclosure, humming a half-remembered tune as he adjusted the dust bath.

“You’re looking especially fluffy today,” he murmured. The chinchilla flopped sideways into the dust, blinking at him with sleepy amusement. “Must be something in the air, eh?”

You sure are in a good mood today, his bear said.

I am in the best mood, Stanley said.

Picking the harvest at the vineyard had been wonderful enough. Although it had taken every ounce of his self-control not to shift and run after her car as she drove away. But then, to get a phone call from June telling him Oli was okay with their relationship had been the perfect end to the day.

His fingers worked automatically while his mind wandered to more pleasant places.

For the first time, he could picture his future in vivid detail.

Not just vague hopes, but actual scenes.

June in the kitchen of his cabin, with her hair loose around her face, her cheeks flushed from making love.

Oli building fairy houses for the rabbits in the backyard.

The two of them helping him renovate the old barn on his property into something meaningful.

Maybe that animal therapy center you talked about, his bear said.

A dream he’d barely admitted out loud. A future built on the land he loved, in the town that raised him. He hadn’t just imagined June and Oli fitting into his life, instead, he dreamed of building a whole new life around them.

He’d thought about it a lot since his conversation with June as they sipped wine after the harvest. But he was not sure she thought he was serious.

And neither did he at the time. But seeing the change in Oli over this last week or so had made him think of how animals could help people.

Plus, it would give the goats something to do, his bear said.

And Miam something to talk about, Stanley added.

When he saw June later, he’d broach the subject again and make sure she knew he was serious. That he was committed to the idea in the same way he was committed to her and Oli.

Well, perhaps not quite that committed, his bear said.

Stanley chuckled as the familiar chime of his phone cut through the quiet shop. Stanley fished it from his pocket, his heart doing that little skip it always did when he saw June’s name on the screen.

“Hey, you,” he answered, leaning against the counter.

“Hi, Stanley.” Something in her voice made him straighten. It was too careful, too measured. Not the warm tone he’d grown accustomed to.

“Everything okay?” he asked, suddenly alert.

“I…” She paused. “I got a call today. From that therapy center in Fairhaven I applied to months ago, before I came to Bear Creek. Before we even met.”

Stanley’s fingers tightened around the phone. “The one that specializes in neurodivergent children?”

“Yes.” Her voice brightened slightly. “They’re expanding their practice, and they want me to come in for an interview. It’s exactly what I trained for, Stanley. The exact position I’ve been hoping would open up.”

The floor seemed to tilt beneath him. Stanley pressed his palm flat against the counter to steady himself. Fairhaven. Not terribly far, but not Bear Creek, either. Not here. Not with him.

“That’s wonderful, June,” he said, forcing warmth into his voice. “I’m proud of you.”

The silence on the other end stretched, heavy with unspoken words. He could picture her, phone pressed to her ear, waiting for him to say more. To ask her to stay. To give her a reason not to go.

Instead, he swallowed the tightness in his throat and said, “If it’s what you want...I’ll help you pack. I’ll help you move.”

He heard her inhale sharply. Then, “I... It’s just an interview. I haven’t decided anything yet.”

“Of course,” Stanley said. “Let me know when you hear back.”

They exchanged a few more words, stilted and careful where they’d once been easy, before ending the call. Stanley set the phone down on the counter, the plastic clattering too loudly in the quiet shop.

He stared at the screen as if willing it to ring again. As if she might say it was a mistake. That she wasn’t leaving. That she wasn’t taking his world with her.

What are you doing? his bear demanded, stirring to life with a growl. We just found them. And you are offering to help her pack?

Stanley pushed away from the counter, pacing the length of the shop. His chest felt hollow, like something vital had been scooped out.

What am I supposed to do? he countered. We agreed we would never force her to stay. She has a calling, and I have a cabin with creaky floorboards and a menagerie of pets. That’s not a fair trade.

She’s our mate. She wants us, not what we own. His bear snarled, the sound reverberating through his mind. We’re not forcing her.

But Stanley knew that one wrong word, one misspoken sentence, might make June stay out of guilt. And he would never want that.

He ran his hands through his hair, trying to quiet the storm of emotions churning inside him. June had come to Bear Creek for a fresh start, for a career that would support her and Oli. He’d known that from the beginning. How could he ask her to give that up? To settle for less than she deserved?

The shop felt suddenly too small, too quiet. Stanley moved through his closing routine mechanically, checking water levels, ensuring all enclosures were secure, counting the register. His body went through the motions while his mind replayed June’s voice, searching for clues he might have missed.

He flipped the sign to CLOSED and locked the front door, then stood in the center of the shop, surrounded by soft animal sounds—a gentle rustling from the chinchilla, the quiet chirp of the parakeets settling in for the night.

For the first time since opening the store, these sounds didn’t bring him comfort.

His heart felt bruised, tender to the touch.

Stanley leaned back against the wall, tilting his head toward the ceiling.

He blinked hard. Then again. But the blur didn’t go away.

It was ridiculous to cry over something that hadn’t even happened yet, but here he was, breathing like the air had turned thick with grief.

“If she’s meant to stay, she will,” he whispered to no one.

In the silence that followed, even his bear remained quiet, offering no argument, no reassurance. Just the hollow ache of possibility slipping through his fingers.

Stanley pushed himself away from the wall and began turning off the lights, one by one, until only the soft glow of the nightlights remained. Tomorrow, he would be supportive. Tomorrow, he would be happy for her. Tomorrow, he would be strong.

But tonight, as he locked the back door behind him and stepped into the cool evening air, Stanley allowed himself to feel the weight of what he might lose—what he might have already lost.

The walk to his truck felt longer than usual, each step heavy with the effort of holding himself together. He climbed in and sat there, key in the ignition but engine silent, staring at nothing.

You could still call her back, his bear suggested, voice subdued now. Tell her how you feel.

Stanley shook his head. She knows how I feel. She knows I love her.

And that love meant that when she made her decision, he would be by her side. If she wanted Fairhaven, he’d put Bear Creek in the rearview.

Even the store he’d poured his soul into. The animals. The cabin built by his grandfather’s hands.

He’d give it all up if that was the cost of keeping them.

Because June and Oli were his family, and his home was wherever they were in this world.

He started the engine, the familiar rumble doing little to settle the unease in his chest. As he pulled away from the curb, Stanley caught a glimpse of himself in the rearview mirror—the shadows under his eyes, the tightness around his mouth. He barely recognized the man looking back at him.

The road home had never seemed so long.