Emma roped Sam into helping her haul her supplies into the club house. When she spent her alternating Fridays there, she didn’t just show up with an armload of treats. She came with buckets of supplies and baked everything right there in the kitchen. That way, if the residents wanted to bake or help or even just watch, they could. It was kind of like having her own cooking show—something she would never do outside of Troutdale Springs.

And she always made sure Sam got a bite of whatever they cooked up. Sam was a wolf, part of Chuck’s pack, and though they had never hung out beyond their brief interludes at the retirement home, they always managed easy conversation. Today, not so much.

As he disappeared into the back seat of her car to grab the balloons, Emma rolled her eyes, hitching the box of dry goods higher on her hip. “Sam, I really, really don’t want to talk about it.”

His head poked through the bundle of balloons. “We don’t have to talk about it. I was just hoping you would have taken a picture, so I could hang it up on my wall. Emma Elliot, a grizzly bear bristling with porcupine quills.”

She pushed the door on her side of the car closed with her hip. “If you aren’t careful, I’ll let you find out what it’s like for yourself. I’m sure Mason wouldn’t mind.”

That shut him up until they were at least inside. Then, mercifully, he was paged out to one of the residences for a pick up. Sam almost took the balloons with him.

But in true Florence fashion, she swiped them out of his hand before disaster could strike. “‘Bout time you showed up out here again. We’ve missed you.”

“Hey, Florence. I assume you’ve been keeping everyone in line while I was gone?”

She traded Emma the balloons for the box of supplies and moved towards the kitchen. “I only burnt one batch of cookies last week. So, there weren’t any riots, if that is what you’re asking.”

“Close enough.” Emma split the bundle of balloons in two and tied half to each side of the buffet window on the cafeteria side of the kitchen. “So, who do we have today?”

“Janet and Susan. You probably haven’t met Susan yet. She and Robert just moved in a couple weeks ago.”

Did she just let Florence assume she hadn’t? No. That would only make things awkward when Susan came running up to her later, which she was pretty sure was guaranteed to happen. “I actually met her earlier this week. Her son, Mason, asked me to make her something for her birthday. An old family recipe.”

“Oh, wonderful. She’s such a dear. Fits right in, and did you see the way she already decorated their unit? She’s been hinting all week at what it’ll be changing to at the end of the month, but she won’t tell anyone what. It’s driving us mad.”

“Have you had your picture taken yet with the skipper’s hat?”

“With the what?”

Emma started laying ingredients out on the counter so she could pre-measure them. “When I dropped off her pie, she had me posing in a picture with her in a matter of minutes. Sam warned me about the coffee, not the picture.”

“That sounds about right. I’ll have to stop by. I can’t miss all the fun.”

Emma didn’t say anything to that, just smiling and concentrating on her measurements. When each resident applied for their unit, they had to fill out a questionnaire about food preferences. They made it look all professional, and the kitchen really did need it for any food allergies and the like, but the end part was all for Emma. Each one had to list three of their favorite desserts. She wrote each one on a slip of paper and put them in a bowl she kept on a shelf in the supply room at the bakery. If there weren’t any birthdays, she drew two for the week. That way, everyone had a favorite at least a couple times a year.

She’d been doing it since before she started working with Cyn, and since then, the whole thing had turned into quite the production. Florence would be rounding up the residents that would spend the day with her before too long. The list seemed to grow every week. If they didn’t come down for the baking process, everyone would get to sample it after dinner.

Emma had no doubt that Susan would be front and center. She’d listed her desserts as peanut butter M&M cookies, lemon bars, and rhubarb pie. Not chocolate, but Emma guessed that was because of the family nature of the recipe. Sure, there were a million recipes out there for chocolate pies, but they weren’t Great Grandma Ella’s. Emma totally understood. Janet had picked one cookie and two pies. Cherry and apple. The cookie was just a basic chocolate chip, and because Emma knew there were a couple of peanut allergies, she picked it and Susan’s rhubarb pie. It was the perfect season for rhubarb, and it would make the entire club house smell divine.

In what Emma imagined to be true Susan Covey fashion, she trotted into the kitchen fifteen minutes early, and the entire room swelled with energy. Even Mal perked up, and usually he slept through her days at the club house.

“Emma!” she squeaked, rushing up and wrapping her arms around her, heedless of the cup full of flour she had been dumping into a bowl. Emma managed not to spill anything, but before she could respond to Susan, the woman was looking conspiratorially over her shoulders as she leaned in to whisper in Emma’s ear. “How is your arm?”

Emma set the empty cup and bowl back on the counter.

Susan reached for the arm that had been quilled and started patting it up and down.

Emma giggled. “It’s fine, Susan. I promise. I heal quickly.”

Susan’s eyebrows shot up. “How quickly?”

Had Mason not told his mother that she was a bear? Had Mason even told her they were…seeing each other? Maybe she should have cleared that up before she came to spend the day with his mother. Shit. Had she told Mason that this is what she was doing today? She remembered her phone, still sitting on her bed where she had left it before the meeting. Well, it was too late now. “Very.” She nodded slightly as she said it.

Susan’s eyes widened.

“And besides. According to Mason, porcupine quills have natural antibiotics or something.” She probably shouldn’t drop the shifter bomb completely just then.

“I see.” Susan tipped her head to the side, contemplating. Then she shook her head and smiled. “Well. I expect you to let me take a look after supper. I need to make sure Mason didn’t leave any lasting damage. Damned boy.” She positioned herself on the stool front and center of the prep table Emma had laid everything out on.

They didn’t have time to explore the conversation further as residents started filtering into the kitchen. By the time they were scheduled to start, nearly a dozen residents had gathered in the kitchen.

“Firstly, we need to wish Susan and Janet happy birthdays.” She held out a hand to each of them, palm up.

The group chimed, “Happy birthday,” with a round of scattered applause.

“Now, based on the ingredients we have on the counter, can anyone guess what we will be making today?”

---

Susan insisted on saving a piece of pie for Mason. And every time she brought him up, Emma felt more and more guilty for leaving her phone at home. Especially when she found out that Mason had plans to stop by to see his parents after dinner. And he would have no idea that she was already there. Emma considered asking Susan for his number and borrowing Florence’s phone to call him, but every time she thought of it, something distracted her, and it never happened.

She’d stopped by the bakery, changed, and called the bank without returning home for her phone. She didn’t want to talk to anyone, didn’t want to be easy to reach. She just needed some quiet time and…to help out at the retirement center.

So, as she found herself squeezed between Susan and Robert in the back of Sam’s golf cart, she started to notice the anxiety pit swelling up in her stomach again. Baking for and with the residents of Troutdale Springs put Emma in her happy place, and she had made it through nearly the entirety of the afternoon feeling normal.

Despite the disaster of the clan meeting.

She’d inflicted her will on her clan.

Maybe the feeling in her stomach wasn’t anxiety. She frowned, barely listening as Susan chattered to Robert about something. Guilt. She was feeling guilty for not having her phone. She usually didn’t care where the thing was, but without it, Mason couldn’t get a hold of her, and that bothered her.

Hopefully, he wouldn’t be too put-out with her. If he had tried to get a hold of her. Maybe he hadn’t. She had no way of knowing. and Susan hadn’t given her a choice about coming back to their residence. Like, really, she would not take any excuse Emma could come up with.

“Please keep your hands and feet inside the chariot as we come to a stop,” Sam announced with a hollow lilt to his voice.

Susan giggled and smacked him gently on the shoulder. “You know I prefer enchanted pumpkin, Mr. Collins.”

Emma held the plate with Mason’s slice of pie while Sam helped her out of her seat. Mr. Covey held his hand out for Emma, and she took it a little awkwardly. That was where Mason had gotten his gentlemanly qualities. She wasn’t used to gentlemen.

Hovering by the cart for a moment, Emma let Robert and Susan get ahead of her on the path. Robert stepped up beside his wife, one hand finding the small of her back. She leaned her head into his shoulder and he bent down and kissed her quickly on the top of her head.

Emma wondered just how long they had been together. And to still have that much affection for one another? It warmed her to the soul. She could picture Brett and Juliet being like that when they were older. Maybe Joe and Ripley, though she was less sure about them. They loved each other, no question about that, but they were just… Joe and Ripley.

“Emma,” Sam said, snapping her out of her revelry. “I’m telling you, pictures. We all have cell phones. There is no way someone didn’t take a picture of your arm full of porcupine quills.”

“I really would drop it if I were you.” She let Mal come out a little. It always threw people when a growl came out beneath her voice.

He held up his hands in surrender. “Fine. You’re no fun. Send a page when you’re ready for a pickup. Unless you’re bailing when the porcupine shows up. He’s waiting at the gate.”

Emma’s heart stopped, and then started a double speed. Mason was here. Shit. “I’ll page you.”

“Are you coming, Emma?” Susan called from the door.

“Yes. Just having a word with—” she looked back at Sam, a smirk on her lips. “Mr. Collins.”

She was pretty sure he flipped her the bird as he crawled back into his cart.

Susan led Emma to the couch and Robert sat down on the love seat perpendicular from them, immediately pulling up a newspaper. “Let me see your arm now, Emma.” She patted the spot next to her, and Emma scooted closer.

“Sam said Mason was at the gate. And I promise, my arm is fine.”

“Nonsense.” Was she talking about Mason or her arm? She pulled Emma’s arm up to her face, peering at it with squinted eyes. “Well, I see. You do heal fast.” Susan let go, her eyes glittering. “Mason didn’t tell us you were a shifter.”

“I’m sure he was planning to.” Emma really didn’t want to have this conversation. What Mason told his parents was—mostly—his business. She really didn’t care to step into the middle of that.

Thankfully, there was a knock on the door. Emma closed her eyes, wishing she could melt into the couch. She really, really should have told Mason that she was going to be at Troutdale Springs today.

Susan shot up off the couch. “Oh good, Mason. I was just having a talk with Miss Emma here.”

Emma risked a glance at him, biting her bottom lip. He met her eyes with surprise.

“You didn’t tell us she was a shifter. I was just about to ask her about it.” Susan sat down next to Robert, motioning Mason to the couch next to Emma.

Mason ignored his mom’s chatter, eyes still on Emma. “I didn’t expect you to be here.”

Emma couldn’t decide if he was surprised or upset. He wasn’t quite Mason, that was for sure. “Yeah. I forgot to tell you today was my Friday at the club house. Surprise?”

Susan batted the newspaper out of her husband’s face. “So, Emma. What kind of shifter are you?”

“Mom, you don’t just out and ask people that.”

“I’m in the comfort of my own home, I will ask what I want, Mason Roy.”

Emma raised an eyebrow. “Mason Roy?”

He closed his eyes and sucked in a long, measured breath. “Yes.” He wasn’t looking at his mom, rather pointedly.

Susan didn’t seem to notice.

Emma stuttered over the words, eyes on Mason but trying not to be rude as she answered Susan’s question. “I’m a bear. Grizzly, to be exact.”

“Oh wow. A bear?” Susan’s hands shot to her mouth. “Incredible.”

“I’ve been trying to get a hold of you all day. Is everything okay?” Mason grabbed Emma’s hand on the side away from his parents.

They might not notice, but Emma wasn’t so sure. “Sorry about that. I left my phone at home this morning, and then I forgot to grab it before I came here.”

“Robert, did you hear that? She’s a grizzly bear.”

Mason’s eyes grew more focused. “I thought maybe something had happened. I was worried.”

What the hell was going on with Mason and Jordan? “Nothing beyond Susan’s baking skills. You didn’t mention how good she is in the kitchen.”

Mason clenched his jaw. He had told her, but Emma suddenly found herself balancing two conversations, one of which wasn’t going quite how she had hoped it would. Actually, neither of them were.

“Oh, I’m nothing special.” But Susan was smiling.

“Sorry, Mason.” Emma squeezed his fingers.

He squeezed back, but still frowned.

Emma forced herself to turn her attention back to Robert and Susan. “Mason told me that you’re shifters as well. What kind of animals are you?” She knew the answer, but now she felt like she needed to make small talk. It felt like being introduced to a boyfriend’s parents for the first time, which was ridiculous since she had just spent the afternoon with Susan. And, not that Mason was her boyfriend. She didn’t think. In fact, she was pretty sure she’d had enough of boyfriends for a while. Until she started thinking about the time they had spent on the couch last night…

Susan dipped her head, her cheeks reddening. “Nothing so amazing as a grizzly bear I’m afraid. It doesn’t really matter. We haven’t shifted in years.”

Emma straightened, remembering something Mason had said. “You haven’t?”

Robert lifted the paper up in front of his face again and Susan didn’t bat it away. She frowned, with one sad glance at her husband. “It was safer not to, in the city. At first. And then it was just easier.” 

“What do you mean?” Emma tried to imagine suppressing Mal. It made her heart hurt. 

Mason shot her a look. “Emma.” 

Susan shook her head. “There are so many people, and we’re rats. They’re nuisances. And generally against health codes.” She shrugged. “I was so relieved when Mason wasn’t a rat. We would have been more relieved if the spirits had let him be.” But even as she said it, there was a tone of sadness to her voice.

Robert flicked the paper, raising it higher in front of his face. Emma was sure he wasn’t reading it. With an uneasy giggle, Susan slapped her knees. “But, it isn’t all bad. If he wasn’t a porcupine, he wouldn’t have found you, my dear.”

Emma tried to ignore that, but she felt the heat rising up the back of her neck. She looked at Mason. His face was screwed up in about a hundred expressions at once. Discomfort. Sadness. Regret. Embarrassment. Frustration. What had he said before? He couldn’t get his dad to shift with him?

Shifting her gaze from Mason to Susan, Emma took a deep breath. She wondered… “Susan, can you still sense your animal spirit?”

The paper crinkled in Robert’s hands as they tightened on the edges. Emma could feel Mason’s gaze burning into her. She ignored him, eyes only for Susan.

Susan wouldn’t look at her. So, there was regret. “Occasionally. But, it’s been a long time.”

Emma moved her gaze to Mason’s father, even though he was still hiding behind his paper. “Robert?”

Mason kicked Emma in the foot.

She shot him an irritated glance.

Mason’s father didn’t answer.

“Robert? Can you still sense your animal spirit?”

Raking a hand through his hair, Mason exhaled an exasperated sigh.

But from behind the paper, his dad whispered, “No.”

Okay. Emma sucked in a breath and closed her eyes. Mal.

Mmm. He sounded half asleep.

Hey, wake up.

I’m not sleeping.

Then stop hiding from Mason. You’re going to have to get over that.

He’s a porcupine.

Okay, Cheryl.

Mal growled and came forward.

Emma opened her eyes through Mal’s vision, tuning her senses and breathing in the currents of the spirits.

Are their animals still here?

Mal focused on Susan. He purred softly, nodding once. Emma focused their gaze. There. She could sense it. It was almost like feeling someone else in the room, almost being able to sense them, but not quite sure how. The slightest of glows in Susan’s chest. Warm. Green.

They shifted to Robert.

He had lowered the paper and looked at them. Almost in challenge. Daring them to find what they searched for.

I’m not sure, Emma.

It has to be there. She needed it to be there.

Mal pushed. They felt something on their leg.

Mason’s hand? It squeezed.

They batted it away.

Come forward, dammit. Emma didn’t want to believe that a spirit animal would ever just…leave.

I don’t know, Em.

There!

The shift was so subtle it could have been a trick of the light.

Robert’s eyes widened.

Yes. His spirit was still there. Barely.

Thank you, Mal.

He nodded and pulled back.

Emma’s vision cleared, and she blinked.

Each of the Coveys were staring at her.

Susan’s fingers were over her lips, eyes wide and bright.

Robert looked away as soon as she met his eyes, a tear spilling down his cheek with the jerking movement.

And Mason.

Mason looked at her like no one ever had before. His eyes glowed silver, specked with green. Bones was there, the little thing’s excitement radiating through them. But Mason. She didn’t think there was a word to describe the emotion on his face. Gratitude. Awe. Neither felt grand enough. Passion. Emma reached for his hand, needing to feel what she was seeing in his eyes. He wound his fingers into hers, palms together, raised into the space between them. Too much space. He reached up with his other hand and wrapped it warmly behind Emma’s neck. And pulled her forward.

He kissed her. Right there in his parent’s living room.

Susan squeaked and clapped her hands together. “Oh!” Then she burst into tears.