Page 81 of The Nook for Brooks


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The bear gave Maggie another shake, then paused, confused by the spectacle that was Bea’s bedazzlement.

“Now!” Cody said, grabbing me by the hand and racing toward Maggie and the bear from the other side.

We skidded across the dirt, then reached up and grabbed for Maggie’s straps as she hung suspended off the ground, kicking and flailing.

“Get the clips!” Cody said, our fingers fumbling with the buckles, both of us working on a strap each.

Cody managed to unclip his strap, but mine was jammed.

Suddenly the bear yanked Maggie backward again, dragging me with it.

“Brooks! No!”

The bear flung us.

Maggie and I landed with a heavy thud… heavy enough to unsnap the clip.

“Quick!” I said to Maggie, pulling her arms free.

The bear was lumbering toward us, but Cody and Bea got to us first.

Bea yanked Maggie to her feet while Cody hauled me up.

“Everyone move!” he yelled.

Ignoring every laceration, bruise, and broken boot heel, the four of us bolted into the trees, crashing through the undergrowth.

Behind us came a roar of pure bliss, as the bear buried its snout into a bag of puppy chow, happily demolishing its all-you-can-eat buffet.

CODY

We were met with blankets,water, and a whole lot of love and relief back at base camp. Doc Morgan, who I hadn’t met yet, was there to patch up our scrapes and scratches. I gave him a handshake; he gave me a tetanus shot. Thankfully Maggie’s wounds were superficial, just a lot of cuts and bumps but nothing life-threatening. I dare say the same couldn’t be said for her backpack.

Brooks sat slumped on a folding chair, a blanket around his shoulders, looking like he wanted the ground to swallow him whole. His clothes were caked in mud, his hair wild, his face a portrait of humiliation.

When I crouched beside him, he muttered, “I made a complete fool of myself. I can’t even walk in the woods without nearly dying and dragging half the town into my pitiful demise.”

“Brooks,” I said softly. “You’re not a fool. You don’t have to prove anything to anyone—not me, not this town, not yourself. And you certainly don’t need to go looking for adventure to discover something different. Yes, sometimes it’s a plane ticket to Patagonia. Other times it’s as simple as a new bath plug.”

He looked at me then, the fight in him flickering, and I squeezed his hand.

For a long moment we just sat there, the noise of base camp fading behind us—Bea mourning her favorite zebra-print dress which was now in tatters, Maggie snapping at anyone who tried to fuss over her while blaming her low blood-sugar levels on the lack of puppy chow, and Sheriff Garrett trying to restore some kind of order.

We let it all play out in the background.

Right now, it was just me and Brooks, blanket and mud and all.

Finally, he whispered, “So, about Patagonia… will you go? I think you should go. That’s what you wanted. That’s who you are.”

I let out a breath. “It’s part of me, sure. Traveling, seeing the world, chasing the next horizon—I can’t pretend that’s not in my blood. But here’s the thing, Brooks… I don’t have to live on the road to still be me. I don’t need to disappear for months to prove my love for adventure. What tonight showed me is that the biggest leap I’ve ever taken… was walking through the door of your bookshop.”

He blinked at me, startled.

I smiled. “I’ll still go places, of course. That’s who I am. But now I’ve got a base. A place to come back to. A someone special to come back to. Patagonia will wait. Paris will wait. Even Maggie Island will wait.” I nudged his shoulder. “And one day, when you’re ready, I’ll take you there. But the important thing is—I’ll always come home. To Mulligan’s Mill. To you.”

His throat bobbed as he swallowed, eyes glistening, and for once Brooks Beresford didn’t have a quick retort.

He just leaned forward, pressed his forehead to mine, and breathed out like he’d been holding it in all his life.