Page 44 of Wild Heart

She blinked, smiling through the weight of unshed tears.

“I thought I was done falling in love with people,” she said. “Not just romantic love. But trust. Family. Letting people in.”

Mason pulled her into his arms, his hold firm, grounding. “Then let me be the one you fall with.”

She pressed her face into his chest. “You already are.”

They stood there, wrapped in silence and stars, until the cold began to sneak through the blanket. Mason nudged her gently toward the cabin. Inside, the warmth embraced them. Mason lit a few lanterns, their glow casting gold on the wooden walls. Natalie leaned against the table, watching him with the quiet awe of someone realizing they had crossed into something permanent. He came to her slowly, arms wrapping around her waist.

“You’re staying,” he said, as if tasting the words.

“I’m staying,” she confirmed. “I don’t need to chase something I thought I wanted when what I need is right here. I’ll set things in motion in the morning.”

His kiss was soft at first, slow and full of reverence. But when she slid her hands under his shirt, feeling the warmth of his skin, something in her deepened.

They moved together with an urgency that wasn’t rushed but rooted in need. In gratitude. In the quiet, consuming kind of love that asks not for fireworks but for steady, burning light.

Afterward, they lay tangled in the center of the bed, breath slowing, hearts still full. Mason brushed a strand of hair from Natalie’s face.

“You terrify me,” he whispered.

She looked up. “Why?”

“Because loving you makes me want to be better than I thought I could be.”

She kissed his shoulder. “You already are.”

Outside, the sanctuary was still. But inside that little cabin, something had taken root.

Not just love. Not just trust. Something enduring. Something strong enough to weather what came next.

18

A chill crept in on a Monday morning, crisping the edges of the leaves and frosting the morning dew that clung to the edges of the sanctuary’s solar panels. Natalie wrapped her scarf tighter and stepped out onto the lodge porch with a thermos of coffee in hand. Across the courtyard, Mason was already out by the tool shed, his breath visible in the morning light as he checked the integrity of the new fencing along the west boundary.

They were running on little sleep, shorter daylight, and a list of needs that far outweighed their budget, but they were moving forward. The open house had been a turning point. Since then, foot traffic at the sanctuary had increased. The phone rang with inquiries, and emails arrived with volunteer requests, donation offers, and invitations to speak at regional conservation forums.

For every positive response, however, there were two logistical challenges waiting in the wings, an injured owl with expensive dietary needs, a backed-up septic system in the lower cabins, a legal letter from a rancher about a supposed fox incursion.

Natalie met Mason at the fence line just after sunrise.

"We’ve got four sponsorship meetings this week," she said, offering him the thermos.

He took it, taking a slow sip before handing it back. "I thought things were supposed to get easier after the town meeting."

"They are easier. Now we’re just being tested in other ways."

He gave her a half smile. "Nothing we can’t handle."

“Exactly,” she replied.

Together, they walked the outer perimeter trail, making notes on repairs, trail safety signs, and possible relocation plans for two older enclosures. The sanctuary had grown steadily, and it was clear now they were on the verge of needing more space.

Later that morning, Natalie joined Olivia in the admin building. The older woman had a clipboard resting on her lap and a calendar of grant deadlines spread out before her.

"Davey’s working on the internship training packets," Olivia said without looking up. "He wants to help with the community education program too. I think we’ve created a monster."

Natalie chuckled. "A highly competent, surprisingly organized monster."

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