Page 17 of Once Upon A Bear

She had to figure it out for him, because he deserved to be free and to find the love that he wanted.

She tried to let go of his hand, but he held on to hers.

“Thank you, Sunshine,” he said. “I’m beholden to you.”

Guinevere frowned at him. “Sunshine?”

He gestured to her head. “Your hair is the color of honey in the sunshine. It just came to me. I won’t say it again if you don’t like it, though.”

She pondered for a moment, if only to make him sweat, before nodding. “I don’t hate it. I’ll get back to work on that potion,” she said. “Do you want to come with me?”

Gideon looked down at her, his brown eyes so dark they nearly appeared black. “I would love that,” he said. “Thank you.”

So she turned and led him toward her home, knowing that by letting her into her home, there was potential to let him into her heart.

Chapter eight

Gideon

Her hand was so small in his.

Gideon wasn’t sure he had ever held the hand of someone so tiny before—other than his little sister, Liliana, and she didn’t count.

Not that he’d held many hands at all, now that he thought about it. This was perhaps the first time he’d held a girl’s hand, and for some strange reason, he didn’t want to stop.

What was it about holding her hand that felt so right that something in him was protesting at the idea of ever letting go?

This was strange, but she wasn’t trying to pull away, and the touch of another human was welcome after so many years of spending a fair amount of time as a bear in his den, far away from any other humans.

As she led him to her home, he couldn’t help wondering if holding hands was new for her too, or if she was used to this phenomenon.

Perhaps the novelty would wear off eventually, but for now, he would enjoy it while it lasted. He knew there was no guarantee that it would last.

As they entered her home, Gideon ducking slightly to avoid hitting his head on the door, the smell of herbs hit him.

He’d already been in her home today, but earlier, he’d been rather frantic, unable to look around and take in Guinevere’s workshop, because there was no doubt in his mind—that’s what this was.

To be sure, there was a bed in the corner, a table, and a small kitchen area, but the majority of the cottage was overrun with all the things she needed for healing.

Guinevere straightened as she entered her home, letting go of his hand to take off her satchel and hang it on the hook near the door.

“What’s in the bag?” he asked gruffly.

“My healing supplies,” she said as she made her way to the table where an open notebook rested.

This was what he had interrupted her doing earlier.

“I never know when I’ll be out and about and someone will find me with a patient that needs help. I don’t want to have to come back for supplied, so I carry this with the basics that help with the majority of my work. If I have to send someone here for something, I can do that later.”

The fact that she sent folks to her cottage to fetch things made all the organization in the room more sensible. Clearly labeled bundles of herbs sat in jars or tied together and hanging on nails against one wall, while there were shelves and cubbies filled with more items on another wall.

“You must have a good number of patients,” he said, looking around the room.

“I do well for myself, especially since Alexander and Beatrice send me many patients,” Guinevere said, poring over a page in her book and turning it. “Though I’m one of only two healers in the Northlands, so we both stay busy. I imagine he was busier before I came. I’m sure he doesn’t like that I’m here, but as far as I’m aware, he doesn’t have magic, so I fill in a gap that he cannot.”

Gideon tried not to laugh at the idea of Doctor Stalling having magic. The old man had been there every time he or his brothers had badly injured themselves growing up, and if anything, he’d only become more of a stickler over the years. Certainly not someone who seemed as if he would deal in illegal magic.

Not that Guinevere fit his idea of the stereotype for an illegal magic user, either.