Bearclaw Valley Papa Said Love Wouldn't Be For Me

Course I will, Milana, drawled Cole, his southern twang warm and easy as he nudged her back in return, a crooked grin stretching across his face. Frederick’s a hoot, ain’t he? Reckon he could scare the fur off a bear if he had a mind to. I’ll make sure he feels right welcome when he stops by, don’t you worry none.

His amber eyes sparked with amusement before he gave a thoughtful tilt of his head. Rabbit hide, huh? I can do that. Ain’t nothin’ like a good, soft pelt to keep the chill out. I’ll see to it on my next hunt—figure I owe ya for thinkin’ ‘bout the pack like you do.