Page 32 of Stout Bear

“No.” Her voice was firm despite her obvious distress. “I’m fine. I just... I need to be alone. I’ll call you later.”

Before Max could protest further, Laney turned and hurried away, weaving through the crowd. He stood frozen, watching her retreat, completely baffled by the sudden change. What had triggered such a strong reaction? The child’s shift had been disruptive but ultimately harmless. Max considered following her but respected her request for space. Instead, he pulled out his phone to text her.

“Are you sure you’re okay? I’m here if you need me.” He waited, watching the screen for her response, which came several minutes later.

“I’m okay. Just need to get home. Enjoy the festival.”

Max frowned, tucking his phone away. The day proceeded without Laney, though Max found it difficult to maintain his enthusiasm. He went through the motions, helping with activities, chatting with festivalgoers, and sending occasional texts to Laney. Her replies remained brief and uninformative, increasing his worry.

By mid-afternoon, vendors had begun the teardown process. Signs came down, booths were dismantled, and the square gradually transformed back to its everyday appearance. Max checked his phone again, rereading Laney’s last message: “I’m okay. Busy.”

“You’ve been checking that phone all day,” Noah remarked, coming to stand beside him. “Everything alright with Laney?”

Max sighed. “I don’t know. She left suddenly this morning and won’t tell me why.”

“Women,” Noah said with a shrug. “Sometimes they need space.”

Max wasn’t convinced it was that simple, but he nodded anyway. Something about that child shifting into a fox had deeply affected Laney. The final ceremony began at four o’clock. Townspeople gathered around the main stage for the presentation of the “Fate Mountain Spirit Award,” an annual recognition of outstanding community service. This year’s recipient was Ash Bright, the local fire chief who had led several dangerous rescue operations during recent wildfires.

Max stood at the back of the crowd, applauding politely as Ash accepted the award. The mayor gave a speech about community unity and resilience, praising everyone who contributed to the festival’s success. Under different circumstances, Max would have felt pure satisfaction at the event’s conclusion, but his thoughts remained clouded by concern for Laney. After the ceremony, his parents and siblings approached, all smiles and congratulations.

“You did an amazing job with this year’s festival, son,” Drew said, placing a hand on Max’s shoulder.

“The best one yet,” Quinn agreed. “Everyone’s talking about how smoothly it ran.”

“Thanks,” Max said, forcing a smile. “Couldn’t have done it without the whole family pitching in.”

“Gwen’s already got a marketing plan for next year,” Liv said with a laugh.

“Let’s get through the financial reports for this one first,” Noah added, ever practical.

They chatted for a few more minutes before his parents headed home, leaving Max with his siblings to oversee the final cleanup. The sun hung low in the sky, casting long shadows across the emptying square. Max stood near the main entrance, watching as the last vendors packed up their wares.

He checked his phone again. No new messages from Laney. The knot of worry in his stomach tightened. He replayed the morning’s events, focusing on the moment the child shifted and Laney’s immediate reaction.

As the workers finished clearing the square, Max thanked each staff member personally for their contribution to the festival’s success. Outwardly, he maintained the confident demeanor expected of him, but internally his thoughts circled back to Laney.

Would she open up to him before their lodge trip? Should he give her more space, or would that just allow her insecurities to fester? With the festival officially concluded, Max headed back home, leaving the empty square behind. He was proud of what they had accomplished, but the success felt hollow without Laney to share it with.

Chapter

Twenty-Nine

Laney arrivedearly Monday morning at the Environmental Sciences lab. The weekend at the festival had caused a whirlwind of emotions. From the exhilaration of the opening night to the crushing moment when she’d fled after seeing the child shift into a fox. She’d been avoiding thoughts about that incident, but now in the quiet of the lab, they threatened to surface again.

She tried to focus on work. She carefully arranged the sample vials in a rack, each one labeled with the collection date and location. The methodical task helped center her thoughts. She powered up the spectrometer and began the calibration process, falling into the familiar rhythm of scientific procedure. This was where she felt most competent, most herself.

Once the machine was ready, Laney began testing the samples one by one. She frowned at the digital readout as results populated her screen. The contamination levels in the aquifer remained elevated, possibly even rising in certain areas downstream from where they’d initially tested.

She ran a second test on one particularly concerning sample. The result came back the same. Laney made careful notes inher lab notebook, her frustration soaring. She’d been monitoring these levels for weeks now, sending reports to the county, yet no meaningful intervention had materialized.

After completing her tests, Laney gathered her notes and headed to Ivy Bright’s office. She knocked lightly on the open door.

“Come in, Laney,” Ivy said, looking up from her computer. “How are the latest samples looking?”

“Not good,” Laney replied, placing her notebook on Ivy’s desk and flipping it open to the most recent page. “Contamination levels remain high, and I’m seeing increases at these three locations.” She pointed to the numbers highlighted in red.

Ivy sighed, leaning back in her chair. “I still haven’t heard back from the county. They’re notoriously slow, and apparently, they’ve triaged other ‘bigger issues’ first.”

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