He snorted."You know she would."
"Of course she would," Sabrina said."She's my friend."
"And I'm your…" He trailed off, watching her face, waiting.
Her heart did a strange, offbeat step."Partner in lumber crime," she offered, testing the words.
He huffed out a laugh."For now."
For now hung between them, weighted with everything they both knew and hadn't quite said out loud yet.The promises they were circling.The future they were building alongside walls and foundations.
She reached for his hand."Let's go home."
He squeezed her fingers, his grip warm and certain."Yeah.Let's."
They walked back to the truck together, gravel crunching under their boots in a rhythm that felt almost normal.Almost peaceful.Behind them, the cabin frame held its ground, three walls standing against the sky, waiting for the work to continue.
Whoever had tried to rattle her had managed it.
They had also pushed her and Colby one deliberate step closer together, whether or not that had been their intention.Some forces, when applied with pressure meant to break, only strengthened what they touched instead.
Sabrina climbed into the passenger seat and watched through the window as the land she loved, the land someone was trying to take from her, slid past in shades of green and gold.
She wasn't running.
She was going home to regroup.To plan.To let herself be held by someone who had chosen to stand beside her.
Tomorrow, they would come back.They would replace the stake.They would re-string the lines.They would keep building.
And whoever was watching would see exactly how little their intimidation tactics had accomplished.
ChapterSixteen
Sabrina lined up the edge of the site plan with the wooden lat line on Colby's kitchen table and tried to make the paper stop shaking in her hands.
It was ridiculous.The cabin outline had not changed overnight.The little rectangle was still there, labeled with Jason's careful block letters in his draftsman's hand.Porch.Bed.Kitchenette.Bathroom.The proportions were exactly as they had been when she'd traced them with her finger yesterday morning, imagining guests settling into a space that didn't exist yet.
The only new thing in the picture was the jagged pencil mark she had dragged through the corner stake without realizing what she was doing.A slash of graphite that looked like a wound.
She made herself set the pencil down before she could do any more damage.
Across the small kitchen, the coffeemaker burbled through its cycle, filling the air with the rich, dark scent that had become synonymous with mornings in this cottage.Colby moved around the space like he had muscle memory for every inch of it, which, of course, he did.Mug from the cabinet by the window.Filter from the drawer beside the stove.Scoop from the canister that sat in the same spot it had occupied since she'd first stumbled into this kitchen after the fire.His steps went from cupboard to counter to fridge without hesitation, a choreography so practiced it looked effortless.
Her body had picked up some of those patterns, too, she realized.Shower in the tiny bathroom with its ancient claw-foot tub.Hair pulled back in a ponytail because she hadn't bothered with anything more elaborate in days.His soft gray T-shirt over her leggings because her own clothes were borrowed clothing from Bree, still in neat, accusing stacks in the guest room she no longer slept in.
She slept here.She cooked here.She stared at plans and worried and hoped here.She fell asleep in Colby's bed, his strong arms wrapped around her, and woke to the sound of his breathing and the warmth of his body beside hers.
When had this become home instead of a temporary refuge?
The doorbell and the security system on their phones cut through the quiet, sharp and insistent.
Her heartbeat jumped, skittering against her ribs."That's Diaz?"
"Yeah," Colby said, turning off the coffeemaker and reaching for the carafe."She texted when she pulled into the drive.Said she had something worth discussing in person."
He wiped his hands on a dish towel and shot her a look that landed somewhere between question and reassurance, asking without words if she was ready for whatever came next."You good?"
She drew in a breath that felt like it scraped the bottom of her lungs."Let's do it."
