"And the detailed trail markers you spent hours on?"
"Regular maintenance."
A delighted laugh carries through the trees, followed by excited barking. We both turn to see Daisy in the distance, crouched down with her notebook as she watches a family of rabbits. She's wearing that ridiculous sweater covered in tiny foxes, and Rascal's sporting his new purple outfit, and I'm definitely not noticing how the late afternoon light catches the gold in her hair.
"You know," Connor says carefully, "I really could take over showing her around. It's literally my job, little brother. Let you get back to your actual maintenance work."
"No." The word comes out sharper than I intend.
"No?"
"She's..." I search for a reasonable explanation that isn't 'I don't want her looking at the woods with anyone else.' "She's already built a rapport with me. Plus, I have a good feel for what she’s looking for. Changing guides now would be inefficient."
"Inefficient," Connor repeats, and I can hear the smile in his voice. "That's what we're calling it?"
I shoot him a glare that would send most people running. Connor just grins.
"You know what I think?" He picks up another board, helping me angle it into place. "I think you like that she sees these trails differently. That she makes up stories about every animal she spots. That she's got our practical groundskeeper building wildlife blinds and planting butterfly gardens..."
"If you have time to stand here theorizing, you have time to help me finish this properly."
"Sure." Connor's voice softens. "But Row? She's good for you. I haven't seen you this invested in anything since..."
"She's only here for two weeks," I cut in, driving a nail with perhaps more force than necessary.
"Maybe." Connor steps back to survey our work. "Or maybe some people are worth building wildlife blinds for. Even if you're not sure they'll stay."
"You've been talking to Mom."
"I've been watching my brother come alive again."
I'm saved from responding by more excited barking. Through the trees, I can see Daisy spinning in a patch of sunlight, arms spread wide as butterflies dance around her new garden. She looks like something from a fairy tale, all joy and light and impossible dreams.
"Shut up," I tell Connor, who hasn't said anything but is radiating smugness.
"Didn't say a word." He starts gathering his tools, then pauses. "But if you change your mind about the guided tours..."
"I won't."
"Yeah," he says with a knowing smile. "That's what I figured."
Chapter Five
Daisy
"Okay, I'm ready to be serious." I adjust my new hiking boots, making sure the practical purple laces are double-knotted. "Teach me your woodland wisdom, O Wise One."
Rowan's expression does that thing where he's trying not to smile but can't quite help it. "Are you actually going to listen this time? Or are you going to run off chasing squirrels with your dog again?"
"That was one time!" I protest. "And it was a very distinguished-looking squirrel. Probably Gordon's chief of staff or something..."
"Daisy."
"Right. Sorry. Being serious now." I straighten my shoulders and give him my best attentive student look. "Trail blazes. Important safety things. No squirrel chasing."
He studies me for a moment, like he's trying to gauge my sincerity. Something in my expression must convince him because his stance softens slightly.
"Think of trail markers like..." He pauses, then says, "Like chapters in a story."
