“So I’ve been discovering,” Matt said, reaching out and shaking Tom’s hand. He looked around the tiny clearing, then brought his gaze back to Tom. “But you should know, having lived here for over two years.”

Tom nodded. “I do,” he agreed, heading for his cabin. “Megan, come see your surprise.” He stopped and looked at Winter. “Don’t take their bridles off,” he told her. “The sun sets in another hour, and you have to be back in town by then.”

“We were planning to watch the sunset from the high meadow,” Matt said, still standing beside Megan’s horse.

Tom looked at him. “I want the girls out of the woods by dark.”

Matt narrowed his eyes. “Because of the panther?”

“What panther?” Winter asked, drawing Matt’s attention. “The one in the painting in my gallery?” She shook her head. “I just felt like painting a jungle cat.”

“That’s not what I heard in town yesterday. Rumor has it a large black panther has been seen around TarStone Mountain.” Matt looked over at Tom. “I have a gun rolled up in my jacket.”

Winter grew alarmed. “You brought a gun? Why?”

Matt just lifted a brow at her.

“Because he’s a smart man,” Tom said, looking directly at Matt and nodding. “But it’s not four-legged animals you’re likely to tangle with after dark, but two-legged poachers trying to get a jump on hunting season.” He studied Matt for several seconds and then said, “You want to see a sunset from the meadow, I’ll take you up there tomorrow afternoon.”

Matt contemplated his tenant in silence, glanced briefly at Winter, then nodded to Tom. “I’ll be here at three.”

Winter became even more alarmed. What was Tom doing? Didn’t he realize Matt could kick him out of his home?

But then she relaxed. Maybe their spending time together would work in Tom’s favor. Maybe once Matt realized how harmless Tom was, he wouldn’t care that her friend was living out here on the point. Heck, Matt might even consider it a plus, to have someone overseeing his land when he was in New York.

Yeah, maybe Tom knew exactly what he was doing.

Tom turned and went into his cabin while Megan stood beside the door. He reemerged with a small object in his hands, bundled in a towel. Both Winter and Matt moved closer to see.

“I started it when you came home last month, finished it just last week,” Tom told Megan, holding the bundle in one hand and slowly peeling away the towel. “But I was waiting until you came out here to visit me to give it to you.”

Megan’s eyes widened the moment her gift was revealed, her gaze shooting to Tom before looking back at the wooden figure.

“It’s beautiful,” Winter said on an indrawn breath, stepping even closer.

“Take it, Meg,” Tom said softly. “It’s not as delicate as it looks. I carved it from oak. You won

’t break it.”

Megan finally reached out and carefully took the foot-tall carving of a bear. “Oh, she’s got a cub tucked in her legs,” Megan said, turning the figure to study it. She looked up at Tom again, and Winter saw the sheen of tears welling up in her eyes. “She…she’s beautiful,” Megan said, dropping her gaze back to the mother bear. “And her tiny cub. It’s looking up with an expression of such…such…”

Megan’s voice trailed off as her throat closed with emotion.

“With trust,” Tom finished for her. “And love.” He reached out and tucked Megan’s hair behind her ear. “That cub knows his mother loves him more than life itself. And he trusts her to protect him. It’s a bond that began in the womb, Megan.”

Megan clasped the mother and cub to her chest, brushed away an escaping tear, and rose up and gave Tom a kiss on his reddened cheek. “Th-thank you,” she whispered. “I love it.”

“You set it by your bedside,” Tom softly told her. “So at night when you sleep, you’ll dream of your own little cub growing inside you. Bears are fierce protectors, Megan, as well as symbols of healing.

And you,” he said, lifting her chin to make her look at him. “You, Megan MacKeage, have the heart of a bear.”

Winter felt her own eyes misting as she stared at the figure clutched to her sister’s chest. She had seen many of Tom’s carvings over the last two years, but this one…this one outshone all the others.

The expression on the mother bear’s broad face was fierce and loving and proud as she looked down at her tiny defenseless cub.

Tom gave Megan’s shoulder a pat, then suddenly turned to Winter with a crooked smile. “You don’t get your gift for three more months, so don’t even ask. Besides,” he said, tucking her arm through his and leading her over to Snowball, “you need to practice your patience.”

But just as Tom bent over to lace his fingers together to make her a step, another set of strong hands took hold of her waist and lifted her into the saddle. Winter managed only to give a small squeak this time, and turned and glared down at Matt. Tom chuckled and headed to the cabin, shaking his head.

Matt returned her glare with a triumphant smile, turned, and took the rewrapped bundle from Megan and carefully stowed it in her saddlebag. Then he leaned over, laced his fingers together and helped Winter’s still-emotional sister mount up.

Tom came out of the cabin carrying Winter’s jacket. “You head straight home on the shoreline path,” he instructed, handing her the jacket. “I’ll be at your gallery early in the morning to settle up. I noticed my large moose carving has sold.”

“Some lady from Arizona wasn’t leaving Maine without it,” Winter told him. “I swear she made her husband buy that moose its own airline seat for the ride home. She wouldn’t even trust it to be shipped, afraid an antler might get broken.”

Tom stepped closer and lowered his voice. “Can you find a way to get my money from that moose to the Dalton family without them knowing where it came from? I want those kids to have some toys under their tree this Christmas.”

“I can find a way,” she whispered back.

“Good,” Tom said with a nod. “Sam Dalton needs the help, but it can’t look like charity.”

“I’ll use the same method I used with the Greeleys.”

Tom suddenly turned to Matt, who had mounted up and was frowning at them. “You’re going to need a road built, Gregor,” Tom told him. “And I know just the man to build it.”

Matt lifted one brow. “You?” he asked.

Tom shook his head. “A guy by the name of Sam Dalton. He busted his leg up pretty badly a couple of months ago, but his head still works fine. He used to be on the paper mill’s road crew. Sam knows construction.”

“Then I’ll look Dalton up, once Winter decides where I’m going to build.”

Tom nodded and stepped away from Snowball. “Get going then,” he said to Winter. “The sun’s setting.”

But it was Megan who led the way out of the clearing with a final wave to Tom, taking the path that wove through the woods along Pine Lake. Winter fell into step behind Megan and Matt, looking back just as the forest started closing in on them. Tom was standing in his clearing, his arms folded across his chest and his feet planted wide, watching them leave. Winter turned back around and stared at Matt’s broad shoulders as she contemplated the old hermit’s expression with growing alarm.

Aye. Tom had been looking much too smug, she decided.

They reached the main street of Pine Creek just as the setting sun washed the sky in a glow of purple and red twilight. Winter stopped Snowball in front of her gallery and was just dismounting when her cell phone rang.

“Hello,” she answered as Matt helped Megan dismount.

“Where are ye?” her papa said without preamble.

“I’m standing in front of my gallery. Megan, Matt, and I just rode into town. Where are you?”

“We’re still on the mountain,” her papa said. “I’m calling to tell ye we’re spending the night up here.”

Winter frowned. “You are? Why?”

Greylen chuckled. “Because yer mother wants to.”