Four days later

“Can’t you stay just a little longer?” Tyler asked. “I thought I’d try making gnocchi today.”

“I’m warning you now that if you can manage to cook Italian food with your arm in a cast, then you’re feeling well enough for naked-man coffee,” Mary teased.

She and Tyler were cuddling in bed. She had started setting her alarm for fifteen or twenty minutes earlier in the morning so she could make coffee for the two of them, then spend a few minutes trading kisses and caresses before she had to get dressed and leave for work.

Cuddling was about all that her mate was up for right now, but she knew it wouldn’t take long before he made a full recovery. She still felt a twinge looking at the long rows of stitches that wound like miniature railroad tracks across the landscape of his body, marring the intricate artwork of his tattoos.

Though Tyler never admitted it, she knew from her father’s reports that Owen had come damned close to killing her mate.

“In that case, I think I’ll need at least another week of recovery,” Tyler announced with a sly grin.

“I’m sure you do. Meanwhile, I really need to get to work. Do you know how much paperwork you have to fill out if you shoot someone in the line of duty?” she asked.

But made no real effort to leave the comfortable refuge of their bed.

It felt much too nice to curl against him, skin-to-skin, and to feel his large hand resting protectively on her belly.

In the aftermath of the confrontation with Owen Barenkamp, both Tyler and Uncle Bill had been treated at the hospital in Salmon as victims of a bear attack. They had each suffered a number of broken bones as well as long, deep gashes that needed dozens of stitches to close.

Because it was risky for any shifter to spend time around Ordinary doctors, Mary’s father had arranged for them to be transported to their homes and had taken over their care.

In the days that had passed since then, both Tyler and Uncle Bill had begun healing with shifter speed. Injuries that might take months to heal in Ordinary patients only took weeks for a shifter.

And Uncle Bill’s hunch about the scope of Owen Barenkamp’s activities had proved correct.

While he was convalescing at home and Mary was filling in for him, she received calls from fire departments all over the state that proved Owen had set fires wherever he traveled to conduct investigations or attend conferences.

Mary suspected that a lot of outstanding arson cases would be closed in the wake of the revelations about Owen’s secret life.

Though Michael and Phoebe Swanson’s house fire remained officially an accident, Uncle Bill had spoken with Phoebe and Tyler while still in the hospital and had told them his suspicion that Owen might have started the blaze that destroyed their family home and killed Mike.

Upon hearing this, Phoebe had thrown herself across her son’s bed, sobbing hysterically into his bandaged chest.

Tyler had put a comforting hand on his mother’s back and nodded solemnly at the sheriff.

“Thanks for telling us,” he had said quietly. “I’m glad that Owen won’t have the chance to hurt anyone else. Any idea why my parents were targeted?”

Uncle Bill had shaken his head. "Nothing we've been able to dig up so far."

Uncle Bill’s account of how Tyler had saved his life and Mary’s made a big impression on everyone. Mary was pleased that the residents of Bearpaw Ridge, Ordinary and shifter alike, now considered her mate a hero instead of a villain.

And a few carefully placed comments in certain residents’ ears meant that word had spread fast about the arsonist’s true identity. The truth about Owen Barenkamp had served to dispel any lingering doubts about whether Tyler had set the fires.

Her snooze alarm sounded, and Mary sighed before heaving herself up on one elbow. It was time to get dressed and face the world.

Leaning over her mate, she gave him a long, thorough kiss and handed him the sling that supported his broken arm and shoulder when he was upright.

“I’m looking forward to gnocchi tonight and naked-man coffee tomorrow,” she joked before slithering out from underneath the covers and heading for the bathroom.

* * *

Instead of cooking, Tyler found himself entertaining a succession of visitors after Mary left for work.

First, Mary’s parents, Derek and Malia, dropped by. It was partly a professional visit, as Dr. Jacobsen examined his wounds and the progress Tyler was making at healing up.

Malia seemed to have grown genuinely fond of her daughter’s mate, and she fussed over him as if he were her own son. It was a big improvement over her initial dismay when she’d heard the news that Mary had rented a room from him.

Tyler was feeling better every time he woke up in the morning. The first day of his convalescence had been painful—between his broken bones and his torn-up skin, he couldn’t find a comfortable way to lie down and sleep. But now he was feeling nearly himself again.

Maybe tomorrow I actually will make those gnocchi. He’d been craving them since he got hurt.

Tyler’s own mother dropped by next. After Tyler was injured, Larry had stepped up to the plate and finished up the last few touches on the renovation, then helped Mom move back into her home.

Mom had been coming by every morning with coffee and pastries from Annabeth’s bakery, and Tyler had been enjoying her visits. She had perked up considerably since returning to her home and was currently talking about taking a cruise to various Caribbean islands this coming winter.

As Tyler looked at the collection of colorful brochures spread out on his coffee table as she animatedly described the various ports of call, he suspected that planning the trip was proving just as much fun as actually going.

After about an hour, Mom gathered up her brochures and left, promising to return tomorrow.

When his next visitor dropped by, Tyler was contemplating a nap on the couch before fixing himself some lunch.

He looked up, startled and immediately wary when Zack Barenkamp knocked on the front door and then pushed it open to peek inside.

“Hey Zack,” Tyler said coolly, preparing himself for the worst. “Come to finish the job your uncle started?”

If so, I’m easy prey right now.

“Hi asshole!” Bogey added cheerily.

With a startled look, Zack straightened up like someone had just applied a cattle prod to his ass.

“What the hell?” he yelped. Then he looked around and spotted Bogey’s cage. “It talks?”

“And he’s a pretty good judge of character too,” Tyler quipped, bracing himself.

He was determined to go down fighting, but he knew that right now, even Dane’s little kid could probably take him down.

But instead of attacking him, Zack just hung his head. “I know.”

Okay, what? I did not see that coming.

Tyler saw the other bear shifter swallow hard and stare at the floor as if it were the most interesting patch of engineered hardwood in the world.

“Your bird is right. I know I’ve been acting like an asshole, and I, uh, wanted to say I’m really sorry for believing all those things Uncle Owen said about you.”

Wait a minute. Zack Barenkamp, the guy who used to be the bane of Tyler’s existence, was actually apologizing?

“Uh…” Tyler felt completely gobsmacked. He knew he should say something…but what?

Finally, he managed, “Hey man, don’t worry about it. Owen had pretty much everyone fooled, including the cops.”

Still looking at the floor Zack shook his head. “Look, I know we didn’t get along back when we were in high school. But since we started volunteering together, I’ve seen that you’re a stand-up kind of guy. I should’ve known better than to believe Owen’s bullshit.” He finally looked up. “I want to be a better person, but it’s hard.”

Tyler sighed and heaved himself to his feet, feeling his stitches pull as he moved. His ribs and broken arm protested with a deep ache, but still, everything felt better than it had yesterday.

“I know, man,” he said honestly. “I’ve been struggling with that myself.”

Zack finally looked up and met Tyler's eyes. Tyler saw the haunted look in the other man's face and was surprised that Zack seemed so upset.

"There's, uh, one more thing," Zack said, and his gaze dropped back down to the floor. "It's about your dad. Uncle Owen hated him. Now that I know about the fires, I just wonder…y'know?"

Tyler stared at the other man, stunned. "Owen hated my dad?" But everyone in Bearpaw Ridge liked Dad…except for me! "Why? What happened?"

Zack hunched his shoulders. "I don't really know the details. But it started a long time ago, when your dad and Owen were still both living in Bearpaw Ridge. Growing up, I remember that every time Owen came back here to visit, he'd talk about how awful your family was and how your dad had cheated him out of winning some high school competition because the judges were Swansons. In fact, he hated your entire family, but he was scared of them, too, especially Elle. He always complained that the Swansons had way too much power and influence in this county, and that the only way he could get a fair shake at a good job and a career was to move away."

"You really think Owen might have set that fire that killed my dad and destroyed my parents' house?" Tyler felt stunned, as if he'd just been hit in the head by a sledgehammer.

"I don't have any proof," Zack admitted. "It's just the timing, you know? He came to visit and suddenly your parents' place burned down. And now that Uncle Owen's gone, we'll never know for sure. But the thought's been weighing on me. I had to say something." He swallowed hard. "I'm sorry. For everything."

"Thanks." Still reeling from Zack's revelations, Tyler closed the distance between them. He held out his hand to Zack. “No hard feelings about me punching you the other day?”

Zack shook his head. “Nope. I totally deserved that.” He took Tyler’s offered hand and shook it. “I’ll see you around the firehouse once you’re feeling better.”

Then he all but fled the house, leaving Tyler to shake his head in wonder. He didn’t think that he and Zack would ever be the best of friends, but he felt better knowing that his old nemesis wanted to be a friendly neighbor going forward.

And Zack's story had just confirmed Tyler's feeling that Owen had been a toxic stain on the Barenkamp family. At least he's not around anymore to spread his poison and set shit on fire.

* * *

Tyler made himself a couple of sandwiches for lunch, took a nap, and then put a seasoned and stuffed pork loin in the oven to roast for dinner.

It wasn’t gnocchi, and he couldn’t take credit for actually preparing the roast—Kenny Jacobsen had dropped it off yesterday, courtesy of the gourmet meat counter at the Fatted Calf butcher shop—but Tyler did want to have some kind of dinner on the table when Mary’s shift ended and she returned home.

He’d have to text her, one-handed, not to worry about bringing takeout BBQ home tonight.

He had finished prepping the salad and was bent over, slowly and painfully rooting around in the wine fridge that he’d installed under the counter, when he heard one more visitor enter the house.

“Hey Cuz, I heard that someone kicked your ass up and down the highway.” Ash Swanson greeted him from the doorway.

Tyler straightened up to see his favorite Swanson cousin walk in, a baby carrier strapped to his chest. There was a baby fast asleep in the carrier, arms and legs hanging limp and his head resting against his father's chest . With amusement, Tyler noted that the kid had a thatch of dark hair that made him look like a troll doll.

“Did Aunt Elle guilt you into bringing little Mitya for a visit? Or was it Dimitri?” Tyler asked as Ash very gingerly gave him a hug.

“Both,” Ash answered with a wry smile. “Dimitri’s thrilled beyond words to be an uncle, and Mom…well, Mitya’s already got her wrapped around his little finger. She didn’t stand a chance. Justin can’t stop laughing at her whenever he sees her going gaga over my kid.”

He said that last proudly, and Tyler wondered what it would feel like to be able to say that himself in a few months. He wondered if Elle had told Ash the good news about Mary’s pregnancy yet.

The answer was apparently yes, because Ash said, “I heard you need to learn how to change diapers soon. Congratulations! Want a tutorial?”

Tyler recoiled dramatically. “Maybe later. I’m still recovering from being mauled half to death.”

“Yeah, I heard all about that. Glad you and Bill made it through.” Ash grimaced sympathetically and examined Tyler’s injuries.

“It was touch and go for the sheriff for a while,” Tyler admitted. “When his ribs broke, splinters went into his lungs and close to his heart. They had to medevac him to Steele Memorial for emergency surgery.”

“But he’s going to be okay?” Ash asked, looking shocked.

“Yeah. He’s a tough SOB, I’ll give him that,” Tyler said.

“Speaking of Steele Memorial…that’s part of the reason I came in from Seattle,” Ash said, his expression serious. “Every time a shifter is hurt and has to go to an Ordinary hospital like Steele Memorial, we run the risk of being exposed for what we are. Nika and I have been discussing the issue with Dr. Jacobsen, and we agree that it’s way past time to build a shifter-focused medical center somewhere either in town or near it.”

“That sounds like a great idea,” Tyler replied.

“Yeah, and I think I’ve finally found the right piece of property. I wanted to make sure I got it before someone else did.” Ash’s gaze measured Tyler. “Once I’ve closed the deal, I want you to build the medical center. You’re planning on staying in Bearpaw Ridge, right?”

“Yeah, I am,” Tyler agreed, touched by his cousin’s offer. “I’ll be setting up my new construction company as soon as I’m all healed up.”

“Good,” Ash said, grinning at him. “Because Nika and I are planning to move back here once she’s finished with her residency, and I want her to have a nice place to work.”

“You can count on me,” said Tyler. He saw Ash take in the scents of roasting pork and herbs beginning to fill the kitchen. “You want to stay for dinner? We have a lot of catching up to do.”

“Sounds great,” Ash replied.

Tyler heard Mary’s footsteps approaching the house and smiled.

It had turned out to be a very good day.