Page 5 of The Bear's Reluctant Mate

Charlie looked up from his game, his eyes wary. “Do I have to?”

“No, you don’t have to. But it might be nice to stretch your legs.” She shrugged. “Get some fresh air.”

He glanced past her to where Alfie stood waiting by the garden center entrance, hands in his pockets, deliberately not watching them. “Whoishe?”

Marion’s heart squeezed. Even at nine, Charlie had learned to be cautious. “He’s the man with the plants for the garden project.” She gave an easy smile. “Maybe you could help carry the plants to the car after we’ve had a quick tour.”

“He looks more than capable of carrying them himself,” Charlie observed moodily.

“I know, but this is our hometown now and it wouldn’t hurt to make friends.” Marion held out her hand to Charlie. “What do you say?”

“That we’re doing fine without friends,” Charlie answered bluntly.

“I know, but you never know when you might need them. So it’s a good idea to make them whenever and wherever you can.” She raised her eyebrows, trying to encourage him to get out of the car.

Charlie considered for a moment, then slowly unbuckled his seatbelt. “Maybe just for a minute.”

As they walked back toward Alfie, Marion kept her hand on Charlie’s shoulder, feeling the tension in his small body. But Alfie seemed to understand. He didn’t move toward them, didn’t try to engage Charlie directly. Instead, he addressed Marion. “The community garden plants are just through here. I’ve got tomatoes, peppers, and some herbs. All good starter plants that should do well in our climate.”

They followed him into the garden center, and Marion’s senses were immediately overwhelmed. The sweet perfume of flowers mixed with the earthy scent of damp soil. While everywhere she looked, life seemed to burst forth in a riot of colors and textures.

“Wow,” Charlie breathed beside her, his game forgotten.

“Pretty amazing, right?” Alfie said, still keeping his distance but including Charlie in the conversation. “My favorite part is over here.”

He led them to a corner where a small fountain bubbled merrily, surrounded by flowering plants that attracted a dozen butterflies. They danced in the air, their wings catching the light.

Charlie took a step forward, mesmerized. “Are they real?”

“As real as you and me,” Alfie said. “That orange one there is a monarch. They’re getting ready to migrate soon.”

“Cool.” Charlie held out his hand palm toward the sky, watching in awe as the butterflies fluttered around the flowers. There was a look of such serenity on his face that Marion felt tears threatening again. She hadn’t seen that expression on his face in months.

“They like the buddleia,” Alfie said softly, moving to stand near a purple flowering bush. “Some people call it the butterfly bush. See how they’re all gathering there?”

Charlie nodded, taking another tentative step closer to the fountain. A blue butterfly landed briefly on his outstretched fingers before fluttering away, and for the first time since they’d arrived in Bear Creek, Marion heard him laugh. A real, heartfelt laugh that made her chest tight with emotion.

“That tickled,” Charlie said, wonder replacing the wariness in his eyes.

“They have tiny feet,” Alfie explained, his voice gentle. “Like little hooks that help them hold on to flowers. Would you like to see where we grow the butterfly plants from seeds?”

Charlie glanced back at Marion, seeking permission. She nodded, trying not to show how moved she was by this small breakthrough.

“Okay,” Charlie whispered.

As Alfie led them deeper into the garden center, pointing out different plants and explaining which ones attracted butterflies, Marion found herself studying him. The way he spoke to Charlie,not talking down to him, but treating him like a person whose opinion mattered. The careful distance he maintained, letting Charlie set the pace. It was...unexpected.

Most people either ignored Charlie completely or tried too hard, overwhelming him with forced friendliness. But Alfie seemed to understand instinctively what her nephew needed.

What she needed.

Connection. That feeling that you were not alone, not on the outside looking in.

“Look at this.” Charlie beckoned to her, pointing to a cluster of tiny caterpillars on a milkweed plant. “Alfie says these will be monarchs.”

“That’s right,” Alfie confirmed, crouching down to Charlie’s level but still maintaining that careful distance. “In about two weeks, they’ll form their chrysalis. It’s like nature’s magic trick.”

Marion moved closer, drawn by Charlie’s enthusiasm. As she leaned in to look at the caterpillars, she was drawn to Alfie, as if there was an invisible force reeling her in. She straightened quickly, heat rising to her cheeks.

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