Page 111 of Hero Mine

Bear laughed, the remaining tension from the day finally dissolving. “Not my sparkling personality?”

“That too.” Her voice softened. “And how you see me—all of me. Not just who I was or who I might be, but who I am right now. Even when I was struggling to see myself clearly.”

Something caught in Bear’s chest. “Joy…”

“You taught me how to protect myself physically,” she continued. “But more than that, you protected my spirit while I was healing. You gave me space when I needed it and pushed when I needed that too.”

Bear pulled into her driveway, then turned in his seat to face her fully. “I was terrified tonight,” he admitted, the confession raw in his throat. “When I heard you on the phone, knew you were facing him alone—and then that silence after… Christ, Joy, those were the longest minutes of my life.”

She reached up, her palm warm against his cheek. “I knew you were coming.”

“But I wasn’t there when?—”

“You were,” she interrupted gently. “Everything I did tonight, every move, every decision—you gave me those tools. You prepared me. You were with me, Bear. The whole time.”

He pulled her across the console into his arms, holding her as tightly as he dared. “I love you,” he whispered into her hair. “So damn much.”

“I know.” She pressed a kiss to his jaw. “Now, come inside, and let me show you just how much I love you back.”

Bear had never moved so fast in his life, practically tumbling from the truck in his haste. Joy laughed, the sound pure and unreserved, as she unlocked her front door and pulled him inside.

This woman—strong, resilient, fierce—was everything he’d ever wanted. And tonight, finally, all the shadows had been chased away.

Bonus Epilogue

A few months later…

Spring had finally arrived in Oak Creek, and the April sun warmed Joy’s shoulders as she stood beside her pink food truck. The scent of fresh pastries and coffee wafted through the open service window, mingling with the earthy smell of newly overturned soil and freshly cut lumber. Across the field, the obstacle course rose in all its completed glory—a testament to what the community could accomplish when they worked together.

“Order up for the Lindstrom family!” Joy called, sliding a tray of breakfast sandwiches through the window. Lincoln accepted it with his characteristic precision, studying the arrangement as if calculating the exact ratio of eggs to bacon.

“The aesthetic presentation is appealing,” he noted, which from Lincoln was practically a love sonnet.

“High praise indeed,” Joy laughed. “Better get those to Eva before she sends a search party.”

She watched him walk back toward the gathering crowd, marveling at how much had changed in five months. The community had rallied around the obstacle course project with an enthusiasm that surprised even Bear. What had started as a way to redirect wayward teenagers had evolved into something that united the entire town.

“Those cinnamon rolls are going fast,” Sloane observed, waddling up to the truck. Her pregnancy had progressed beautifully, and she was due any day now. “Better save me one before they’re gone.”

“Already set aside in the warmer,” Joy assured her, reaching for the special box she’d prepared. “With extra cream cheese frosting, just how you like them.”

Sloane’s eyes lit up. “You’re a goddess.”

Joy leaned on the counter. “How’s our sheriff handling the impending fatherhood countdown?”

“Callum’s installed three different baby monitors and created an evacuation plan for the hospital route.” Sloane rolled her eyes fondly. “I think he’s memorized every pothole between our house and the delivery room.”

Their laughter was interrupted by a commotion near the course entrance. Joy craned her neck to see Aaron Johnson addressing a group of younger kids, demonstrating proper climbing technique on the wall they’d constructed. The transformation in him over the past months had been remarkable. The sullen teenager who’d stolen her ladder had become a confident young leader.

“Hard to believe that’s the same kid we caught breaking into my scrap yard,” Bear’s voice rumbled behind her.

Joy turned to find him leaning against the truck, arms crossed, watching the scene with undisguised pride. His Oak Creek Garage shirt stretched across his broad shoulders, and sawdust clung to his jeans from helping with last-minute course adjustments.

She smiled. “Well, if memory serves, youalmostcaught him.”

Bear grimaced. “Don’t remind me. Kid is like a fucking gazelle.”

“But yes, the change in him is so impressive. People rise to meet expectations,” she said softly. “You taught them that.”

---