Greta was on his porch.
He spotted her when his truck’s headlights swept over the house as he pulled into the driveway. Curled up in the cedar chair on the left—the one she always took when she came over, though she would deny she’d claimed it if you asked—with her SAR fleece zipped to her chin and her chin tipped down toward her chest. Her hair had come most of the way loose from its clip. Atlas was sprawled out beside her, also sound asleep.
She’d come here after hours of callouts. After, presumably, driving home in rain so heavy the wipers couldn’t keep up. She’d gotten out of the Jeep and made it as far as his porch, then sat down and stopped.
Not the Bear could blame her. They’d been going nonstop for over twenty-four hours. He was exhausted, cold, and aching everywhere, so he could only imagine how she felt.
She could have gone home. She could have sat with the dog and a bottle of whatever she poured into her old flask. Instead, she was here, sound asleep and leaking rain on his porch like a stray left at the door.
Logan stirred in the passenger seat, sitting up sluggishly and yawning. “Are we home?”
“Yeah.”
“Why aren’t you getting out?” He followed Bear’s gaze to the porch. “Oh. Is she still mad at you?”
Bear winced. By the time he’d gone to pick up Logan, the news of his and Greta’s fight and kiss outside the firehouse had already spread to Valor Ridge. And, of course, River being River had given him hell for it right there in front of Logan.
“Probably. Hang on. Let me go talk to her.” He slid out of the truck and caught King’s collar before the dog launched himself out of the cab. “Logan, hold him.”
Logan reached over and got both hands into King’s collar with a grunt. “Oh, hold still, you huge doofus.”
King’s tail went like a propeller. He knew Greta was on the porch. He could probably smell Atlas. He wanted out and lunged for the exit again.
Logan managed to hold him back long enough for Bear to shut the door.
He jogged toward the porch and wiped the rain off his face once he was under cover again.
Atlas lifted his head and read Bear with those amber eyes, then looked back at Greta and put his chin down again. His tail thumped tiredly.
Permission granted.
“Thanks, buddy.” Bear crouched in front of the chair. “Hey. Greta.”
If she heard him, she didn’t show it.
Her face was relaxed in sleep, all of the sharp, stubborn angles gone soft. She breathed evenly, the fleece rising and falling in a slow rhythm. He put the back of his hand close to her cheek without touching it. Warm enough. Not shivering. Just out, deeply and completely, the way a person went under when they’d been running too long on too little.
He got one arm under her knees and the other behind her back and stood. She gave a murmur of protest, but turned her face into his chest.
Atlas rose on his feet and trotted ahead to the door.
As he carried her inside, he waved the all clear for Logan to release King and come in.
The hallway was narrow for a man his size even when he wasn’t holding someone, and he took the stairs carefully. She was light. Lighter than he expected, every time, like some part of him still hadn’t calculated the difference between how much space she took up and how much she actually weighed.
He laid her down on his bed. Pulled off her boots, one then the other, and set them on the floor by the nightstand. He reached across for the quilt and drew it up over her. She turned onto her side and tucked one hand under her cheek, and her breathing went deep and even again almost immediately.
He stood there.
Behind him, Logan appeared in the doorway. He hadn’t heard him on the stairs. He was leaning against the frame in his soaked hoodie with King and Atlas looming in the hallway behind him. He was staring at the bed—at Greta asleep under the quilt—with an expression that was hard to read in the dark.
“Logan?”
Then he looked at Bear. “If you love her, it’s okay with me.” A pause. “I think she’s good for you.”
Bear opened his mouth, but nothing came out except a rush of air. If Logan had hauled off and punched him in the gut, he’d have been less surprised.
Logan pushed off the doorframe. He got his arm around King’s neck and steered him back down the hall. Atlas hesitated a beat, then followed.
