Sadie thanked her and collected her coat from the hook by the door, wrapping her scarf around her neck and digging her gloves from her pockets. When she stepped through the door, Riley bounded up almost immediately from where he’d been investigating something in the garden, circling around her as if he had been waiting for her to emerge.
“So you’re to be my escort, are you?” she asked, smiling as the massive dog trotted beside her. “Lead on, then.”
Frost crunched beneath Sadie’s boots as they made their way along the gravel path, and she could see puffs of steam from her breath. The cold snap transformed the estate grounds into an icy wonderland. The trees and bushes along the path sparkled with frost as they caught the morning light. After several minutes, the path curved around, revealing a small pond nestled in a natural hollow. Its edges were rimmed with ice, while the center was still liquid and reflected the sky above.
Corbyn stood at the water’s edge, hands tucked into his coat pockets. Even from behind, Sadie saw he was relaxed and at peace. Missing was the tension that usually pulled his shoulders tight, the rigidness of his posture that never truly left when they were working. Here, alone with his thoughts, he seemed different, more at ease in his own skin.
Riley gave an enthusiastic bark, bounding ahead, and Corbyn turned at the sound. His gaze found hers almost immediately, and then something flickered across his features. She thought it might be surprise or relief, but then there was something warmer before he schooled his expression.
“Morning,” he called as she approached, his voice carrying in the crisp air.
“Good morning,” Sadie replied, suddenly feeling strangely shy, like she was invading some sort of morning ritual. “I hope I’m not intruding.”
“Not at all,” Corbyn said, his tone gentler than she was accustomed to hearing. “How are you feeling?”
“Better,” she answered, standing beside him at the water’s edge. “Thanks to you.”
He shrugged, and she suspected he was trying to appear casual as he replied, “All I did was fetch some pills and darken a room. Hardly heroic.”
“It was more than that,” Sadie said quietly. “You could have just called me a car back to the inn. Instead, you…” She trailed off, uncertain how to articulate what his care had meant to her.
“Anyone would have done the same,” Corbyn replied, though they both knew that wasn’t true.
A comfortable silence settled between them as they gazed out over the pond. The surface rippled gently where Riley had ventured a paw into the shallows, breaking the ice and sending concentric circles spreading outward.
“Still, thank you for yesterday,” Sadie said. “And for getting my things from the inn.”
Corbyn kept his gaze on the water, his voice rough when he answered, “Seemed the practical thing to do.”
“It was still thoughtful.”
He glanced at her then, something unreadable flickering in his eyes. “Yesterday was…” he hesitated, seemingly struggling to find the right words. “I’m glad you’re feeling better.”
The simple statement contained more genuine concern than Sadie had heard from him before. It still surprised her how much Corbyn had changed since their first contentious meeting. He had gone from the prickly, dismissive author to someone who noticed when she was in pain and cared enough to help.
“You know, I realized this morning that I’ve been handling things alone for so long that I’d forgotten what it’s like to have someone there when I needed them.” She offered a small smile and added, “So thank you. For being there.”
Something in Corbyn’s expression softened further. The way he looked at her, like she was someone who actually mattered to him, had warmth running through her body, settling low in her stomach. Tucking a loose strand of still-damp hair that had escaped her ponytail behind her ear, she turned her gaze back to the pond, needing to break the spell.
Riley chose that moment to return to them, shaking water from his coat in a spray of droplets. The interruption lightened the mood, shifting them away from emotional territory, and Sadie’s laugh rang out over the pond.
“Miscreant,” Corbyn muttered, brushing water from his coat. “He knows perfectly well he’s not supposed to get wet in this weather.”
“He was just testing the ice for structural integrity,” Sadie suggested with a smirk. “It’s actually very scientific of him.”
Corbyn’s lips twitched in that almost smile she was coming to recognize. “Are engineers known for licking their testing equipment? Because that’s his primary methodology.”
“He’s pioneering new techniques,” she retorted with mock offense. “He’s very innovative, our Riley.”
“Our Riley,” Corbyn repeated, something warming in his gaze. “He’s certainly rather taken with you.”
“The feeling’s mutual,” Sadie said, watching as the dog explored the shoreline.
She moved along the edge of the pond, and Corbyn fell into step beside her. Their silence was broken only by the sound of their footsteps and Riley’s occasional snuffling when he caught an exciting scent.
“How did the writing go yesterday after I fell asleep?” she asked, keeping the conversation in safer territory. “Any breakthroughs?”
“Actually, yes,” Corbyn replied. “I think I’ve found a way to tie in Shaw’s relationship with his sister that gives the confrontation more emotional weight.”
