I could not help laughing. Their family dynamic was chaotic but genuine. They knew each other’s edges and pushed right up to them without crossing over. It was disorienting at first glance, but underneath the noise and humor was something steady. Something reassuring. Something I hadn’t had for far too long.
We reached the porch, and Sienna stepped in front of me. The cold breeze caught a loose strand of her hair and blew it across her cheek. I reached out without thinking and brushed it back.
I regretted it instantly, not because it was unwelcome but because it was instinctive. Personal contact was not something I offered lightly. But her brown eyes lifted to mine, and something warm passed between us, subtle but unmistakable.
She blinked. “Oh. Thank you. I mean, not thank you. I mean, yes, thank you for touching my hair, which is a sentence I regret entirely.”
Beck snorted. Violet covered her mouth. Fiona wheezed.
I felt a smile break free. “It looked like it was bothering you. That is all.”
“Right.” She nodded too quickly. “That makes sense. Logical. Practical. Good.”
Her siblings were losing their composure behind us. Her parents looked torn between rescuing her and enjoying the moment. I found myself reluctant to step away from her, which was strange. I didn’t usually experience anything this immediate. But there was something about her that felt alive in a way I had not encountered in a long time.
Even so, the line was clear. This was work. This was temporary. And I had come here for structure, not complication. The end of September, and I’d be onto my next gig.
But when she opened the lodge door and warmth washed over us, she looked back at me with a mix of curiosity and unease, and something in my chest shifted. It wasn’t enough to declare anything aloud, but enough to acknowledge the truth quietly.
I was in trouble. I had walked into the middle of a world that was already full of life.
And Sienna Harper stood at the center of it, flustered and radiant and entirely unexpected.
I carried my bags across the threshold and followed her inside, fully aware that whatever this summer had in store, it was not going to be simple.
It was going to be her.
Sienna led me back through the lodge, weaving past the fireplace, the game shelf, and a group of guests playing cards at a side table. She moved quickly, almost purposefully, with that restless energy she carried like a second heartbeat. I followed with my bags, feeling the warmth of the lodge fade the closer we got to the rear doors.
Once we stepped outside again through the back kitchen door, the quiet hit instantly. The laughter and chatter from inside dimmed behind us, replaced by the muffled hush of snow blanketing the forest. A narrow trail branched behind the lodge, lined with soft lantern lighting and tall pines glittering with frost.
“This way,” she said, not looking back.
Her voice was different now. Shorter. Tighter at the edges.
I had expected her family to follow, maybe continue the interrogation, but somewhere between the fireplace and the back door, they had vanished. Either she shook them off, or they knew to give her space. I suspected both were true.
We walked the short path until the tree line broke open and a small row of cabins emerged, dusted with fresh snow.Smoke curled from a few chimneys. The windows glowed with lamplight.
I stopped without meaning to. These weren’t standard bunk-style guide lodging. These were private. Quiet. Warm. They were better than anything I’d stayed at in the last ten years.
She reached the third cabin and fished a key from her pocket.
“This one’s yours,” she said. “It’s small, but it has a kitchenette and a shower that works most days. If not, you can use the one in the main lodge.”
I stared at the cabin for a second too long. “I wasn’t expecting… this.”
She unlocked the door and pushed it open, shrugging. “What? A roof?”
“Privacy,” I said.
Her brow creased. “Where did you think you were staying?”
“Somewhere with a mattress if I were lucky. Guides don’t usually get their own space.”
She blinked, genuinely surprised. “You’re not just a guide. You’re working with us. That means you get a cabin.”
Her tone was simple, matter-of-fact, but something in it tugged at me unexpectedly.
