"Sounds like she left because she couldn't handle the isolation, the quiet life here," I say carefully, watching Evie's reaction.
She sighs. "Heather loved the idea of mountain life more than the reality. She wanted Rowan to be different. More ambitious, more worldly. When he wouldn't change, she left."
"And now he thinks everyone will leave," I finish quietly.
"Not everyone. Just anyone he might let himself care about." Her gaze is steady, compassionate but unflinching. "And now here you are. You are bright, creative, full of life. Everything these mountains need. Everything he needs."
"For eight more days," I whisper.
"Is that all it can be?" There's no judgment in her question, just gentle curiosity.
"I don't know." I press my fingers to my temples. "My life is in the city. My career, this opportunity, everything I've worked for."
"Dreams are funny things," Evie says, watching Rascal as he positions himself strategically between us, hoping for fallen crumbs. "Sometimes they change when we aren't looking. Sometimes they grow to include things we never expected."
"Or people," I add without thinking.
Her smile deepens. "Or people."
We eat in companionable silence for a moment. Finally, I find the courage to ask, "What would you do?"
"Oh, honey, I can't answer that for you." She pats my hand. "But I can tell you what I did when I faced something similar. When James—Rowan's father—and I were first married, I had a job offer in Atlanta. Office manager position at a prestigious school. More money, more opportunity, more everything."
"But you didn't take it."
"No. But not because James asked me to stay. He actually encouraged me to go." She smiles at the memory. "He said he'd follow me anywhere, even to the city he hated, if that's what would make me happy."
"What made you stay?"
"I realized something important." She brushes muffin crumbs from her fingers. "The job was amazing. But it wasn't what made my heart feel at home."
My phone buzzes with a text message. Rowan's name appears on the screen, and my heart does a ridiculous little flip.
Trail to the hidden waterfall today? Meet at 10?
"You should answer him," Evie says, eyes twinkling as she rises. "He's probably been composing that simple message for twenty minutes. My son has many talents, but casual texting isn't one of them."
I laugh despite myself. "I still don't know what to do, Evie."
"I know, dear." She gathers her basket. "About Janet. She did ask me to remind you to call her. But she also said, and I quote, 'Tell her to take a breath before she decides anything. The mountains have a way of changing perspectives.'"
I stare at her, surprised. "Janet said that?"
"She knows you well." Evie pauses at the door, glancing at Rowan's jacket still wrapped around me. "Whatever you decide, make sure it's what will bring you joy, not just success. They're not always the same thing."
After she leaves, I sit for a long moment, looking between my phone and my laptop. Eight days suddenly feels both infinitely long and heartbreakingly short.
Waterfall sounds perfect. See you at 10.I type, then add,Rascal says to bring treats. I say to bring a sense of adventure.
The reply comes faster than I expected.
Both covered.
I close my eyes, clutching the phone to my chest like a lifeline. Janet's email remains unanswered, a blinking cursor waiting for a response I'm not ready to give. But I do send her a quick text:
Got your email. Amazing news. Need a little time to think. Call you later today.
Ten o'clock finds me waiting at the trailhead, nervously smoothing my clothes and wondering if one kiss changes everything or nothing at all. Rascal prances at my feet in his purple sweater, blissfully unaware of human complications.
