"So, you gonna tell me where we're headed?" Dan asked as we approached the long drive that led to the McKenzie homestead. "Or is this one of those 'trust me' situations?"
"Trust me," I said, managing a smile despite the butterflies wreaking havoc in my stomach. So many things could go wrong with what I was about to do. What if he hated it? What if he thought it was too much, too soon? What if—
"Always do," he replied simply, and the easy certainty in his voice settled something inside me. Dan trusted me. That was the foundation of everything between us.
As we neared the turnoff to the main house, I sat up straighter. "Don't turn there," I said quickly. "Keep going straight."
Dan's eyebrows shot up, but he did as I asked, continuing past the familiar driveway. "Getting mysterious on me, McKenzie," he said, his voice playful. "I like it."
I pointed to a narrow track that branched off the main road about a quarter mile past the house. It had been little more than a deer path when I started this project, but Ransom and Quiad had helped me widen and grade it until it was passable for a truck.
"Turn there," I instructed, my voice betraying more nerves than I wanted it to.
"A surprise?" Dan's eyes lit up like a kid at Christmas. "I love surprises!"
His excitement made me smile despite my nerves. That was Dan all over—facing down armed criminals without flinchingbut lighting up like a sparkler over the smallest gesture of thoughtfulness. It was why I'd worked myself to exhaustion over the past months, pushing through the pain of my healing burns to get the cabin ready in time for his hospital release.
"Where exactly are we going?" Dan asked as the truck bumped along the new road, trees closing in on either side to form a green tunnel. "I didn't even know this road existed."
"It didn't, until recently," I admitted. "Just a little further."
The trees thinned as we crested a small rise, and then there it was—the old hunting cabin, transformed from a dilapidated shack into something that might actually be worthy of the man sitting beside me.
My heart lodged somewhere in my throat as I saw it through Dan's eyes for the first time: the fresh cedar siding gleaming in the afternoon sun, the wide front porch with its twin rocking chairs, the stone path leading to the door, the clearing around it that offered a perfect view of the valley below.
"There," I managed, pointing toward the cabin. "Park there."
Dan pulled up in front of the cabin and cut the engine, his expression curious but trusting. Before I could reach for the door handle, he was out of his seat and circling around to my side of the truck, moving with an energy I hadn't seen since before the shooting. He pulled my door open, his hand extended toward me like some old-fashioned gentleman from one of those movies Ma liked to watch.
"Come on, come on!" he urged, practically bouncing on his toes. "What are we looking at? What is this place?"
I took his hand, letting him pull me from the truck, though my legs felt suddenly shaky beneath me. The moment of truth had arrived, and there was no backing out now. Everything I wanted for our future was tied up in this cabin—in Dan's reaction to what I'd created for us.
I led him to the front of the truck, our fingers still intertwined, and toward the cabin's porch. The sun was beginning its descent toward the mountains, painting everything in warm golden light that made the moment feel dreamlike and surreal.
"Harlow?" Dan prompted, his voice softening as he must have sensed my anxiety. "What is this place?"
The words stuck in my throat, caught behind a lump of emotion I couldn't swallow down. Three simple words that carried the weight of everything I felt for him, everything I hoped for our future.
"Come with me?" I finally managed, my voice barely above a whisper as I tugged him gently toward the porch steps.
My knees shook so bad I had to lock them just to stay upright as we stood on the wide porch overlooking the valley. The sun hung low on the horizon, painting the sky in streaks of orange and pink that reflected off the river below.
It was the perfect view—the whole reason I'd picked this spot—but my heart was pounding too hard to appreciate it properly. Dan stood beside me, his shoulder brushing mine, his face turned toward the sunset with an expression of wonder that made my chest ache.
"Look at that view," I managed, pointing toward the horizon with a hand that trembled despite my best efforts to steady it. The valley stretched out below us, the McKenzie River winding through it like a silver ribbon. From here, you could see all the way to town on a clear day, and the lights of the farmhouse glowed warm in the distance.
Dan glanced at the view, but his attention quickly returned to me, his eyes narrowing slightly in that way they did when he was piecing something together. "Is this the old hunting cabin you told me about? The one where you and your brothers used to stay during deer season?"
I nodded, swallowing hard against the dryness in my throat. "It was. But we, uh, we changed it."
"Changed it how?" Dan asked, his head tilting to one side, curiosity lighting his features.
The words came out in a rush, like I needed to get them all out before I lost my nerve. "Fixed it up. Rebuilt most of it, actually. Added plumbing and electric. Put in new windows. Expanded the back. Ransom helped with the design. Knox and Quiad did most of the heavy lifting while I was still healing." I paused, drawing a breath that didn't seem to fill my lungs properly. "Pa donated the land. Said it was long past time for me to have a place of my own."
Dan's eyes widened as understanding began to dawn. "Harlow—"
"It's not much," I cut in quickly, moving toward the door, my hand settling on the brass knob. "Nothing fancy like those places in town. But it's solid. Built to last."
