Page 12 of The Bear's Blooming Mate

“You have sketches?” Finn asked.

“I do.” She flipped open her sketchbook, and as they discussed fencing materials, gate placements, and irrigation lines, Elsbeth found herself relaxing slightly.

Finn was good at what he did. Extremely thorough without being overwhelming, suggesting smart, cost-effective solutions without talking down to her.

“Okay,” he finally said as he flipped his notebook closed. “I think I have everything I need for now. I suggest you start on the irrigation system first. If you find the spring, we can tweak the plans. If not, the system we’ve designed will still work just fine.”

“Thanks, Finn,” Elsbeth said with some relief at his confident tone.

“No, thank you for making my job easier. You have good instincts.” He tapped her hand-drawn map. “The way you laid things out has saved me a lot of work.”

Elsbeth flushed, a little embarrassed but pleased. “I’m just hoping it’ll work out.”

Finn gave her a long, steady look. “It will. You’ve already done the hardest part.”

She tilted her head, curious. “What’s that?”

He smiled. “You believed enough to try.”

Her eyes misted with tears. It had felt like anything but brave most days. Half the time, she still worried she was making a fool of herself, chasing a dream better suited to someone stronger. Someone less…breakable. Because a part of her was broken. And she didn’t know how to heal.

“Thank you for saying that,” she whispered, tracing her finger along the edge of her mug. “Sometimes I wonder if I’ve bitten off more than I can chew.”

Finn leaned back in his chair. “That’s how all good dreams feel. Too big, too much.”

“Yeah, you’re right,” Elsbeth agreed. “I guess it feels scary because I barely know anyone in town yet.”

“You know me,” Finn said with a friendly smile. “And Philip.”

Her cheeks warmed at the mention of Philip’s name. “I suppose I do.”

“Trust me, knowing Philip is like having a whole army on your side. He’s the most reliable person I know.” Finn cracked a grin. She loved the way he spoke about his brother. There was a genuine love there—she could feel it.

“Are you saying I should thank you for sending him the wrong text?” she asked lightly.

“What can I say?” Finn leaned back, crossing his arms loosely. “Sometimes life gives you more than you planned for. And in this instance, it’s Philip.”

She looked away, pretending to study the fields beyond the porch. “I’m not looking for anything except a fresh start.”

“You might not say that when Philip finds that spring for you,” Finn said, a small smile playing at the corners of his mouth.

“I would have to agree with you,” Elsbeth admitted with a soft laugh. “A spring would make things so much easier.”

“Exactly. Philip has this uncanny ability to read the land. It’s like he can sense what’s beneath the surface.” Finn gathered his notes, sliding them into his pocket. “Our grandfather was the same way.”

“Is that why he works with the vines at your family vineyard?” Elsbeth asked, curious to learn more about Philip.

“Partly. But it’s more than that.” Finn’s expression grew thoughtful. “Philip has this connection to growing things that goes beyond knowledge or experience. He understands them. Nurtures them.” He paused, giving her a meaningful look. “Not just vines, either.”

Elsbeth felt heat rising to her cheeks again. Was Finn implying something?

“Well,” she said, clearing her throat, “I appreciate his help. And yours.”

Finn stood, stretching slightly. “I should head out. I’ll draw up those plans and get them to you by the end of the week.” He hesitated at the door. “And Elsbeth? Bear Creek has a way of giving people exactly what they need, even when they don’t know they need it.”

With that cryptic comment, he headed down the porch steps, leaving Elsbeth to wonder what exactly he meant. She stood there watching him as he got into his car and, with one last wave, drove away, leaving her alone.

As she went back inside, the farmhouse felt too big, too empty. So instead, she went back outside, picked up her spade, and headed toward her newly designated dahlia beds. There was work to be done, and dwelling on mysterious comments from Finn, or the way Philip’s eyes crinkled when he spoke about the land, wouldn’t get her flowers planted.

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