“She seems close to her family,” I said carefully.
“Oh, she loves them,” Abby agreed. “But she’s also the one who bolts when things get too tight. That girl disappears to places most maps don’t even bother listing. Always has a backpack somewhere, half-packed. Always has a ticket on standby. Some people say she’s got lightning in her bones.”
My pulse shifted.
Lightning.
Yeah. That tracked.
I cleared my throat and found a seat. “And when she’s in town?”
“That’s the funny part,” Abby said with a grin. “The second she stays in one place too long, she gets restless. Finds mountains to climb. Rivers to cross. Random animals to befriend.”
I swallowed.
This felt too close to something.
Abby wiped her hands on her apron. “Honestly? I think she’s scared of stillness. Scared of choosing anything. Or anyone.”
The words landed like a stone in my stomach.
“So don’t take it personally if she’s skittish around you,” Abby added. “She’s skittish around everyone.”
I looked down at my coffee, absorbing that, not because it scared me off.
But because it made too much sense.
Sienna wasn’t flaky.
She wasn’t indecisive. She just didn’t know how to stay.
And I…
I didn’t know how to ask someone to.
Not after my past.
Not after loss.
Not after learning the hard way that people leave even when they promise they won’t.
But Sienna wasn’t my responsibility.
She wasn’t my future.
She wasn’t part of my plan.
She was a coworker.
A temporary partner on the spring and summer hikes.
Someone who’d be running her own trips while I ran mine once the season hit.
Someone who lived here, rooted and tangled in her family and her town, while I—
I wasn’t staying.
Not after September.
