Scrolled to Sienna’s name.
Typed a message.
Deleted it.
Typed another.
Deleted that too.
Eventually, I settled on something simple.
I’ll be back soon. And I can’t stop thinking about you.
I hovered a moment and finally pressed send.
And for the first time since I walked through this door, the weight in my chest eased—just a little.
Three days.
I could survive three days.
Especially knowing who was waiting on the other side of them.
Chapter Forty-Three
Sienna
By the time I stepped back onto the Honey Leaf Lodge porch, my legs were pleasantly sore, my lungs full of crisp spring air, and my heart lighter than it had been in days.
Maybe weeks.
Guiding the three women from Minnesota—Maggie, Jo, and Leslie—had been the kind of trip that reminded me why I loved this job. Childhood best friends in their forties, all full of chaotic joy and questionable snack choices. They hiked like champs, complained like comedians, and told stories that made me laugh so hard I nearly walked off a trail ridge.
We’d spent the final stretch of the trip strolling along the lake, talking about life, love, and the beauty of adult friendship. They told me I needed to “get back out there,” and when I explained Iwasout there, they said no, they meantromantically.
Maggie had even winked and said, “There’s always someone you don’t expect.”
I’d laughed.
But a tiny, traitorous part of me… had thought of him.
The women had hugged me goodbye at the lodge entrance and carried their gear upstairs, still buzzing from our last campfire talk. I waved them off with a smile, promising to meet them tomorrow morning to help plan their drive home.
Then the door swung closed behind them.
The hall quieted.
And I let out a slow, satisfied breath.
A perfect trip.
For once, I wasn’t overthinking anything.
Or running from feelings.
Or trying to predict disaster.
I was, dare I say… calm.
