Page 23

The sanctuary’s private retreat spot, a wooden platform built above the ridge, nestled in a crown of red pines had become a place of quiet reverence for Natalie and Mason.

It overlooked a silver-threaded stream far below, flanked by mossy rock beds and thick fern underbrush.

The wind whispered through the trees like the echo of an old lullaby, rustling the leaves with a sound that seemed too intimate for the world below.

Natalie sat on a wool blanket, her legs stretched before her, Mason beside her with one hand resting near her knee, fingers brushing hers now and then.

They had hiked up that morning with thermoses, packed sandwiches, and no agenda.

The buzz of recent events still rippled through the sanctuary below, new enclosures planned, grant approvals, ongoing repairs but here, they were suspended in another world, just the two of them, just the present.

The breeze lifted strands of her hair, and Mason reached to tuck one behind her ear.

“You look peaceful,” he said.

“I am. For the first time in a long while. ”

She tilted her face to the sun, letting the light warm her cheekbones.

Mason looked over at Natalie, his expression soft but intent.

“I used to think I’d never have this,” he said quietly. “Not just peace, or a place that mattered. But someone. You.”

Natalie looked up from the stream, her heart tightening. She studied his face in profile, creased by years of tough weather and a tough life, but gentler now. “I don’t think I ever let myself want it,” she said. “Not until I got here. I thought being self-sufficient meant being alone.”

Mason took her hand more fully then, his grip warm and certain. “I love you,” he said, the words simple and final, like a stone laid gently into soil.

She stared at him, breath catching.

“I’ve loved you for a while now. I just didn’t know how to say it.”

Natalie blinked, her lips trembling into a smile. Tears stung at the corners of her eyes.

Mason leaned in, kissing her forehead first, then her lips. A kiss that wasn’t just warmth or want, but something older, steadier. Like a promise.

When they pulled apart, Natalie’s fingers traced the line of his jaw. “I love you too. This... you... the sanctuary… it’s where I’m meant to be.”

They held each other for a long time, the wind dancing around them. Below, a hawk shrieked, circling above the valley as if drawing invisible lines around their world.

They talked long into the afternoon. Of what they would build. Of what expansion could look like. Of fostering youth programs, of investing in long-term conservation. Natalie spoke of starting an onsite vet technician training, Mason of enhancing wildlife corridors .

“It doesn’t have to be just a safe place,” Natalie said. “It can be a beacon.”

Mason kissed the back of her hand. “It already is.”

And in that moment, with only the sky above and the sanctuary below, they believed it.

They believed they were safe.

It should have been perfect. It almost was. But the wind that whispered through the trees seemed to carry a warning, faint and weightless, like a breath before a storm. Below them, at the sanctuary, cracks had begun to form.

The wind had picked up by the time Mason returned alone to the lodge. The skies overhead had dimmed into a sullen gray, clouds bruising at the edges like the warning of an oncoming storm.

He stepped inside the kitchen to refill the kettle when he heard it, a footstep behind him.

Mason turned and faced the doorway, eyes narrowing slightly at the sight of the boy, no, the man he’d watched grow into himself this past year.

But tonight, Davey didn’t look like the young man Mason had come to know.

His expression was carved from something older. Something wiser.

“We need to talk,” Davey said.

Mason set the kettle down with care. “Okay.”

He expected a question. A complaint. Maybe even anger. But not the next two words.

“I know.”

Mason frowned. “Know what?”

Davey pulled the folded letter from his coat pocket, the paper worn soft at the edges. His voice dropped as he set it on the table. “I know who I am. Who I come from. I thought it was a guy named Clark, the person in this letter.”

Mason took a step forward. “Davey...”

“It’s you.”

Mason froze.

“What are you talking about?” he asked, barely above a whisper.

“You’re my father.”

The room went very still. Even the wind outside seemed to hold its breath.

“I forced her to tell me,” Davey said. “Told her I’d leave if she didn’t. That I’d walk away from this place forever.”

Mason’s hand rested on the edge of the counter. “Olivia told you?”

Davey nodded.

Mason stepped back like he’d been punched. “Jesus.”

And in that moment, the door creaked open behind them. Olivia stood in the frame, breathless, hair clinging to her damp forehead, eyes wild with what she must have already known. Her gaze swept from Davey to Mason, and the truth of what she’d hidden crashed down around them like falling branches.

Mason’s voice was gravel. “You have some explaining to do.”

She shut the door softly behind her. “I know.”

They moved to the table in silence, the three of them. A triangle of truth, years too late.

Mason didn’t sit. Not yet. He stood at the end of the table, his arms folded tight over his chest. “You should’ve told me.”

“I know,” Olivia said again, her voice breaking.

“You had already left when I found out. You were drinking, fighting, spiraling. I was pregnant, alone, and scared. I thought…” Her voice cracked.

“I thought you didn’t want that life. That you couldn’t handle it, not after what happened with your daughter. ”

Mason looked at her, his jaw flexing.

“I didn’t expect to see you again, didn’t even know where you were,” she continued. “And by the time you came back, Davey was five. We were happy. You wanted your job back, to stay in town. You’d changed. But I didn’t know if it would last. And Davey... he took to you right away.”

“I remember,” Mason whispered, blinking fast.

“I was afraid,” Olivia said. “Afraid that if I told you, you’d leave. Or worse, that you’d stay and not be enough. That you’d disappoint him. That he’d look at you the way I looked at Clark when he left and never come back.”

At that name, Davey’s head turned sharply.

Mason looked confused. “Clark?”

“A man I loved,” Olivia said quietly. “After you. He wasn’t Davey’s father, but I wished he was. And when he walked out, I swore I wouldn’t risk anyone else disappointing him.”

Silence.

“I thought having you around as a friend, as a male figure, was enough. But I was wrong,” she added. “He needed the truth. He needed you.”

Mason finally sat, slowly, like gravity had caught up to him.

Davey stared at the grain in the wood table. “You were wrong,” he said at last. “You thought you were protecting me, but really, you were just scared. And I paid the price for that.”

“I know,” Olivia said. “And I’m sorry. I’m so, so sorry. Her voice cracked.

Mason leaned forward, elbows on the table, voice low. “You robbed me of those years. I won’t pretend I’m not angry.”

She flinched.

“But” he said slowly, turning to Davey, “what we do now… that’s what matters.”

Davey looked at him, hope in his eyes.

Mason’s voice softened. “I can’t go back and change anything.

But I can be here now. I want to be. I want to make up for lost time.

But for that to happen, we all have to forgive.

Your mom didn’t make the right call, but she made it with love.

And if we’re going to move forward, we do it clean.

No bitterness. No blame. Just... honesty. ”

He reached across the table, hand open. It hovered in the space between them. Davey stared at it. Then, slowly, he reached out and took it. Mason’s fingers closed around his son’s.

Then, without a word, Mason reached for Olivia’s hand and brought it into the center, laying it on top of theirs.

“We’ll figure this out,” he said. “Together.”

Olivia’s tears spilled freely now, but she nodded, her voice gone. And for a long, quiet moment, the three of them simply sat like that. Hands connected. Breathing steady. Three lives, finally aligned in truth.

The door opened behind them. They turned. Natalie stood in the doorway, her eyes darting from Olivia’s tear-streaked face to Mason’s hand over Davey’s.

Her brow furrowed. “Well, doesn’t this look cozy.”

Natalie stepped into the room, her face ashen, her world having just fallen apart. Outside a bolt of ice white lightening lit up the sky, reflected her anger better than any words could.