"It is." She looks down at the drawing, then back at me. "And you know what I realized sitting in those meetings?"
"What?"
"That I can write from anywhere." Her eyes hold mine, steady and sure. "That the best stories I've ever written came from sitting in that wildlife blind you built me."
Hope flickers, dangerous and fragile. "What are you saying?"
"I'm saying that before you showed up here, I was already thinking about moving to Elk Ridge." She says it so simply, so matter-of-factly, that for a moment I'm sure I've misheard.
"You... what?"
"The publishers don't care where I live as long as I can make it to New York occasionally for meetings. I can do most of my work remotely." A small smile forms. "And it turns out I do my best writing surrounded by mountain magic and grumpy forest guardians."
"But your life in Charlotte..."
"I’m not planning on going back to teaching." She leans forward slightly. "Besides, the lodge felt more like home in two weeks than my apartment has in two years."
The hope expands, threatening to crack my ribs. "Even with me pushing you away?"
"Especially with you pushing me away." She shakes her head. "Because it showed me how much it hurt to leave, even when I thought you didn't want me there."
"I do want you there." The words rush out. "More than anything."
"Do you?" Her eyes search mine, still cautious. "Because I need to know this isn't another moment you'll regret when reality sets in. When my chaos disrupts your ordered world or when my career needs attention."
"I flew to New York City—a place that terrifies me—and tracked you to a hotel fancier than anywhere I've ever been, wearing hiking boots and flannel." I gesture to myself, to the incongruous picture I must make in this elegant setting. "If that's not commitment to disruption, I don't know what is."
That earns a real smile, one that reaches her eyes. "It is pretty convincing."
I reach for her hand, relieved when she doesn't pull away. "I love you, Daisy Harper. Your chaos, your magic, your talking animals. All of it. And I'm sorry it took losing you to realize I'd rather have a messy, complicated future with you than a safe, empty one without you."
Her fingers curl around mine, warm and forgiving. "You hurt me."
"I know."
"You'll need to make it up to me."
"Every day," I promise. "For as long as you'll let me."
"That might be a very long time." Her eyes shine with something I haven't dared hope for. "Because it turns out I love you too, Rowan Callahan. Even when you're being a stubborn, frustrating mountain man."
"Especially then?" I ask, echoing her words.
"Especially then." She squeezes my hand. "Though I reserve the right to remind you of this moment the next time you try to make decisions for both of us."
"Fair enough." I bring her hand to my lips, pressing a kiss to her knuckles. "So what happens now?"
She stands, tugging me up with her. "Now you kiss me properly, forest guardian. And then we figure out the rest together."
I pull her close, marveling at how perfectly she fits against me, at how the chaos of New York fades when she's in my arms. Her lips meet mine in a kiss that feels like coming home and embarking on an adventure all at once.
When we break apart, her eyes are bright with tears and laughter. "I can't believe you came to New York."
"I'd go anywhere for you." The truth is simple now that I've stopped fighting it. "Even if there are no trail markers to follow."
"We'll make our own," she says, her smile holding all the magic I almost convinced myself wasn't real. "That's what we do best."
As we leave the hotel hand in hand, the city suddenly seems less overwhelming. Still not my natural habitat, but fascinating through Daisy's eyes as she points out details I would have missed—the pattern of light through buildings, the resilient treegrowing through concrete, the stories written in every face we pass.
