"Rowan?"
"Hmm?"
"Thank you. For fixing things. For not making me feel like..." She gestures vaguely. "Too much."
Words stick in my throat. Before I can untangle them, Rascal squeezes between us, demanding attention.
"I should go." I gather my tools, needing to escape before I do something stupid like tell her she could never be too much. That she's exactly right. That she makes these woods feel more magical than they have in years.
"See you for our research hike later?"
I make the mistake of looking at her. She's backlit by morning sun, Rascal cradled in her arms, hope bright in her eyes.
"Yeah," I manage. "Later."
"Earth to Rowan." Liam's voice cuts through my thoughts. "You planning to eat that pot roast, or keep rearranging it?"
I blink down at my plate, realizing I've been pushing the same piece of meat around for the past five minutes. The family dining room buzzes with its usual chaos. Connor describes his latest hiking tour, Declan argues with Jameson about proper marshmallow roasting technique for tomorrow's bonfire, and Mom watches us all with quiet amusement.
"He's been like this all day," Connor says, reaching for another roll. "Barely heard a word I said about the new trail markers."
"I heard you." I didn't.
"Really?" Connor grins. "So you're okay with me taking over Daisy's trail orientation?"
My head snaps up. "What?"
"There it is." Liam laughs. "Mention Daisy and he suddenly remembers how to pay attention."
"That's not—" I stab at my pot roast with more force than necessary. "I was thinking about maintenance schedules."
"Sure you were." Connor's eyes dance with mischief. "That's why you spent an hour this morning fixing a five-minute shutter problem."
Heat creeps up my neck. "How did you?—"
"I have eyes, little brother." He grins. "And you're not exactly subtle when you're building things for pretty writers."
"I wasn't building anything. It was routine maintenance."
"And not Max’s job?" Liam asks innocently. “Last I heard, he was still in charge of maintenance.”
"Don't you have actual work to do?" I cut in. "Like running this place?"
"This is more fun."
I turn to Mom for help, but she's hiding a smile behind her water glass. Traitor.
"You know," Declan pipes up, "she really liked those berry scones this morning. The ones you specifically asked me to make?—"
"That was for all the guests."
"Right." Declan nods solemnly. "All the guests. Which is why you wanted to know if they were her favorite kind, and if I could make extra?—"
"I'm done." I push back from the table, but Mom's hand on my arm stops me.
"Sit," she says softly. "Let your brothers have their fun. They only tease because they're happy for you."
"There's nothing to be happy about."
