Page 8 of Cinnamon Baker Bear

Isaac drained the last of his coffee and pushed back his chair. “And I’ve got people waiting for me at the farm.”

Within a few minutes, Wes, Evan, and Isaac had gone, leaving Nate and Joel at the table while Gabe cleared the last of the plates.

Nate carried his mug to the counter and nodded at two small paper bags set to one side, a name written on each. “This for Toby and Nell?”

“Yes. Dana’s bringing them in on the way to school.” Gabe set the plates down. “Nell asked if she could have an apple-cinnamon pastry in her lunch box, and I had to make one for Toby too. I can’t give one without the other.”

“You’ll be good at that one day. Parenting,” Nate said.

One day, Gabe’s bear sighed wistfully.

“I hope so,” Gabe said. He looked at the two paper bags, Toby’s name on one and Nell’s on the other. He loved being Uncle Gabe. But it wasn’t the same as packing a lunch box for a child of his own, was it? And how many more years was he going to go on saying one day?

“You will,” Nate said.

“So will you,” Gabe said.

A small smile crossed Nate’s face. “Yeah. One day. I hope.”

“All I’m hoping for right now is for this festival to be over.” Joel zipped his folder closed. “I just keep thinking about what Mom would already have done by now.”

Gabe leaned on the counter. “Your mom’s going to be proud of you, Joel.”

Joel didn’t look convinced. “Not if the festival fails.”

“It’s not going to fail. You won’t let it, and she knows that. But you don’t have to organize it exactly the way she would either. Figure out what has to be done, and let people help you do it.”

Joel looked down at the folder. “She makes it look easy.”

“She’s been doing it for years.”

“That doesn’t make my lists any shorter.”

Nate came over and slipped an arm around Joel’s shoulders. “Come on. I’m going to escort you out before you drown your sorrows in cinnamon bears.”

Joel picked up the folder. “Now that is a tempting thought.”

“And that…” Nate began, steering him toward the door, “is why you’re leaving.”

That earned a laugh from Joel. “Thanks, Gabe. See you tomorrow.”

“I’ll be here.” Gabe raised a hand and waved.

The bell chimed as Nate and Joel went out, and cold air swept briefly through the bakery before the door swung closed behind them.

Gabe went back behind the counter.

His bear went completely still.

Gabe stopped. What is it?

For a moment, his bear didn’t answer. Then a strange warmth moved through Gabe, deep and certain.

She’s close.

Gabe gripped the edge of the counter; he didn’t need to ask who she was. After all this time waiting, hoping, she was somewhere in Bear Creek. How many mornings had he stood right here, watching the door, and wondered if this would be the day? He had almost stopped asking. And now she was out there, a street or two away, and he couldn’t think of a single thing he would say to her.

Gabe looked toward the bakery window. His first instinct was to go outside and run to her.