But what were her dreams now? Art had always been her sanctuary, the place she disappeared to when reality became too heavy. She could create worlds on paper, imagining herself living in them when her own life felt too confining.
The courtyard sketch she’d made last night flashed in her mind—how she’d drawn Matt without even thinking, his presence on the page as natural as the climbing vines and stone walls. Had her subconscious been trying to tell her something? Was Matt Thornberg part of the dream she should be following now?
She closed the dishwasher with a soft click, wiping her hands on a towel. Was it possible to have both—a connection with someone like Matt and still keep her own identity, her own creative path? To find balance rather than sacrifice? Other people managed it.
But she didn’t know how. It wasn’t something she’d learned.
“Are you ready to go?”
Tessa startled at Matt’s voice behind her. He stood there with a backpack slung over one shoulder, looking at her with those dark eyes that seemed to see right through her defenses.
“I’ve packed us some leftovers,” he continued. “Thought we could eat at the lookout.”
“Oh, okay,” Tessa replied, feeling suddenly flustered. Was this a date?No,she reminded herself firmly. He was just being nice because she was drawing the courtyard for his mom. But the hopeful flutter in her chest betrayed her—shewantedit to be a date.
She grabbed her things, checking that her sketchpad was still in her bag. Even though she knew it was.
Then they headed out of the restaurant together, Matt holding the door for her like the gentleman he was. She blamed the warm summer sun for the heat in her cheeks, but she knew it was Matt who made her feel this way—and she liked it.
They walked through town side by side, as if it were the most natural thing in the world. Matt pointed out landmarks as they went—the corner store where he and his brothers used to buy candy with their allowance, the playground where they’d spent countless summer afternoons after school.
“And that’s the library,” he said, gesturing toward a charming stone building. “Elliot practically lived there growing up. He was obsessed with books about food from other countries.”
“Elliot is your brother?” Tessa asked, trying to keep all the Thornbergs straight in her mind.
“Yeah, he’s off on an adventure right now, collecting recipes from around the world for his latest cookbook.”
“Really?” Tessa couldn’t hide her impressed tone. “That sounds amazing.”
“Yeah,” Matt said, his expression a mixture of pride and something else she couldn’t quite name.
“Do you miss him?” she asked.
“I do. We were close growing up,” Matt admitted. Then he lowered his voice slightly. “And sometimes... Don’t tell him this... But sometimes I envy him.”
Tessa studied his face, surprised by this confession. “Do you want to be a famous writer?”
He shook his head. “No, I just sometimes wonder what it’d be like to travel. To have that kind of freedom.”
His words resonated with something deep inside her—that yearning for something new, for space to breathe and grow.She glanced around at the mountain town, the peaks rising majestically in the distance.
For her, Bear Creek was that kind of place.
“I know what you mean,” she murmured. “But it’s so beautiful here.” She took a deep breath of the pine-scented air. “I can see why you never left.”
“I’m glad,” Matt said, his voice warm.
He held out his hand to her, palm up, an invitation. “This way to the lookout.”
Tessa hesitated only a moment before placing her hand in his. His fingers closed around hers; his touch was so familiar now.
The path narrowed as they climbed, winding between pines and aspens. Matt kept his pace slow, matching her shorter strides. Their joined hands swung gently between them, and Tessa marveled at how natural it felt, as if they’d been walking together like this for years instead of minutes.
“It’s not much farther,” Matt said, glancing down at her. “There’s a clearing just ahead with a view that’ll take your breath away.”
“I’m not in a hurry,” Tessa replied. This moment with Matt felt like something to savor rather than rush through.
The trees thinned as they neared the top, and suddenly the view opened before them—Bear Creek spread out below, nestled in its valley like a painting come to life. The mountains rose in the distance, their peaks still capped with snow despite the summer warmth.
