Page 37 of The Bear's Reluctant Mate

Charlie whooped with delight, punching the air with his free hand. “Yes! Alfie’s coming for dinner! Alfie’s coming for dinner!”

“We’d better head back then,” Marion said, smiling at her nephew’s enthusiasm.

Alfie and Marion carried the logs, while Charlie gathered the small treasures he’d found, a few interesting stones, and a pine cone dropped by a squirrel. They were the start of his nature museum, and as they made their way back through the forest toward the vineyard, he scoured the forest floor for any other interesting objects.

“Look!” Charlie crouched down and carefully picked up a piece of eggshell.

“It’s belongs to a robin,” Alfie told him. “See how blue it is?” Alfie looked up into the tree above. “Look, there’s the nest.”

“Does it have baby birds in it?” Charlie whispered as if he didn’t want to disturb them.

Alfie was silent for a moment, his head tilted to one side. “No, they have flown the nest.”

“Can I keep the eggshell for my nature museum?” Charlie asked.

“You can,” Alfie said. “But you must never take eggs from a nest.”

“I know,” Charlie said, running his finger lightly over the eggshell.

“So, a nature museum?” Alfie asked. “That is a cool idea.”

As they emerged from the tree line, the view stole Marion’s breath away all over again. The terracotta roof gleamed golden in the late afternoon sun, while the leaves of the vines seemed to sparkle like emeralds as they fluttered in the breeze.

It was perfect.

Just like the man walking beside her, Marion thought, stealing a glance at Alfie’s profile. His quiet strength, hispatience, his gentle kindness, all of it wrapped in a package that made her heart beat faster whenever he smiled at her.

“Oh!” Alfie stopped suddenly beside her. “Before we go, I should grab a bottle of wine for dinner. Would you mind a quick detour?”

“Not at all,” Marion replied, even though her arms ached from holding the branches.

“Is it from your grapes?” Charlie asked, skipping alongside them as they changed direction.

“Some of them,” Alfie nodded. “My parents have been making wine here for over thirty years.”

He led them toward a stone building set partially into the hillside and set down his logs. Marion did the same, thankful for the chance to stretch her arms. Then he pulled open the heavy wooden door and cool air wafted out, carrying with it the rich, earthy scent of aging wine.

“Whoa,” Charlie breathed, stepping inside. His eyes widened as he took in the enormous oak barrels lining the walls and the racks of bottles stretching into the shadows.

“This is where the magic happens,” Alfie said, his voice dropping to a reverent tone that matched the hushed atmosphere. “The wine ages here, developing its character.”

Marion moved deeper into the room, drawn by its quiet serenity. “It’s incredible,” she murmured, running her fingers lightly over the smooth surface of a barrel.

“My father calls it the heart of the vineyard,” Alfie said, moving to a rack of bottles. He studied the labels carefully before selecting one. “I think you’ll like this. It’s one of our Cabernets, not too heavy.”

“I’m sure it will be perfect,” Marion said, watching as he cradled the bottle with obvious affection.

“Can we explore?” Charlie asked, his hunger obviously forgotten.

“Another time,” Alfie said, and Charlie didn’t argue as they headed back toward the entrance.

When they emerged back into the sunlight, Charlie blinked rapidly, adjusting to the brightness. “That was so cool! Like a secret cave, but for wine!”

Alfie laughed. “That’s a pretty good description, actually.”

“I’d like to live in a cave,” Charlie announced as they collected their stacks of wood. “Are there caves in the mountains?”

“There are,” Alfie replied.

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