Page 13 of Stout Bear

Vendors’ tents lined the square, draped in bright colors. Handcrafted goods and fresh produce filled tables. A small stage in the corner hosted a band, their melody floating over the crowd. It looked too good to pass up, even though she was in work mode and not exactly at her best in the looks department. Her frizzy hair was in a messy bun. She hadn’t put on any makeup, and she had the slightest tinge of body odor.

Laney pulled into a vacant parking spot, killed the engine, and stepped out. She tucked stray hair back into her scrunchie, feeling self-conscious about her faded khakis and cardigan. A warm breeze carried the aroma of pastries and grilled food. Families meandered, couples swayed to the music, and small children chased each other around stalls. Laney smiled in spite of herself. This was exactly what she needed.

Laney navigated through the square, drawn by the scent of fresh bread. She stopped short when she saw Max talking to a vendor. Her heart rate spiked, her palms dampened, and a rush of heat flooded her cheeks. Max wore casual jeans and a collared shirt, appearing at ease in his muscled body.

Her inner fox howled, telling her to go to him. She decided to leave before he saw her, worried about her disheveled appearance. Laney stepped back, nearly colliding with a passerby who gave her a puzzled look.

The bright afternoon sun glinted off tent canopies. The lively music accentuated her sudden panic, each banjo strum seeming to scratch at her brain. She didn’t want him to see her like this.

The day they’d spent collecting samples, she’d spent extra time on her make-up, braided her hair carefully in a French braid, and had dabbed on her most expensive perfume. Even if she didn’t think she would ever be enough for him, she wasn’t going to embarrass herself by showing up looking like she’d just spent four days staring into a microscope nonstop. A huge family of what she could tell were wolf shifters blocked her escape as she tried to retreat.

“Laney!” Max called from behind her.

She turned, trying to smile through her internal cringe. Max walked toward her with confident strides. She stood rooted in place, heat flooding her cheeks as he caught up to her.

“Hey, I wasn’t expecting to see you here,” she said, her voice scratchy from misuse.

“It’s so good to see you,” he said, reaching out to briefly touch her shoulder.

Laney felt a surge of energy run through her on contact. Heat rose in her face and sweat trickled down her arms. She gulped. “You too. How have you been? I’ve been working nonstop. I finally presented my results to my superior today.”

“I’d love to hear about it. Can I buy you a crepe?” Max said.

Her heart stuttered, but she forced herself to remain calm. She wondered if he was judging her messy appearance.

“That sounds nice,” Laney replied. “I just finished at the lab and thought I’d grab a bite to eat.”

“Great!” he said, his eyes bright.

Laney followed Max through the stalls to a brightly decorated crepe booth. She noticed Max greet a few vendors who waved at him. Max was clearly well known and loved in this town. His connections throughout the community ran deep. He towered over her, and his handsome looks were like a beacon.

The crepe booth’s sign advertised sweet and savory fillings. A line of customers extended around the side. The sizzle of batter on a hot plate and the sweet aroma of fruit compote hung in the air, making her stomach gurgle.

“I was just confirming some final details for the beer festival. Everything’s been hectic,” Max said.

Laney replied, “It’s been hectic for me too. My findings... well, I have bad news.”

“How bad?” Max asked, his voice dropping lower.

“The same contamination appears in every sample I’ve tested,” Laney said. “From the brewery to the creek. But I can’t identify it, no matter how many databases I cross reference.”

Max nodded grimly. “That doesn’t sound promising.”

They reached the front of the line and ordered. Max chose a savory crepe with ham and cheese while Laney selected one with strawberries and chocolate. The vendor prepared them quickly, the hot griddle turning liquid batter into paper-thin pancakes filled with steaming ingredients. The vendor handed them their fresh crepes wrapped in paper. Max led Laney to an empty picnic table near the live bluegrass band.

Laney settled in. “I can’t see it getting better without major intervention. Ivy sent my results to the county, but she warned that it could take a long time before they respond.”

“That’s why I bought a new water filtration system... unbelievably expensive, but I’m out of options.”

She winced inwardly at the news, imagining the financial burden. “What kind of system?” Laney asked.

“BioClean,” Max replied. “Cutting-edge microbial filtration. At least that’s what the salesman claims.”

Laney tried to mask her reaction. “BioClean? I’ve never heard of them.” She took a bite of her crepe, the delicious flavor swirling on her tongue.

“The salesman showed up yesterday. He knew exactly what problems we were facing. I signed the contract to get it installed right away.”

“How did he know about the contamination?”

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