She blinked. “The one for what?”
“Theone,” he said, his grip on her hand tightening slightly. “The one that says we’re meant for each other. That kind of one.” He slid his arm around her shoulder. “And I happen to have it on good authority that your mother thinks so too.”
“Whose authority?”
“Your mother’s. And to quote her”—he added his best Southern imitation for effect—“mothers always know best.”
Scout’s eyes went wide, then she burst out laughing.
A good sign, Chase thought. A very, very good sign.
Tim Rivers’s text conversation with Rebecca Woodbine:
Tim
Morning,Becky. Hope you slept well. Sorry to have kept youup so late.
Rebecca
I should be the one apologizing!I didn’t realize the time until Maisie fell asleepright in front of us. It was so fun tocatch up on old times and exchange info on whatour high school friends are doing now. I haven’tlaughed so hard in years.
And yet ... I think wejust scratched the surface. I have a full day aheadbut need to take meal breaks. Care to meet meat Stewman’s for lunch or dinner?
How about both?
Twenty-One
There is nothing so American as our national parks.
—FranklinD. Roosevelt, president
The carriage roads were a mess.
Maisie dodged a cyclist who apparently thought the roads belonged exclusively to him, then stepped over an empty gel pack someone had tossed onto the path.
Frankie, of course, had something to say about all of it. “Look at this.” He grabbed the gel pack with two fingers like it personally offended him. “These things are everywhere. You spend thousands of dollars on a bike, but you can’t carry your own trash? And don’t get me started on these cyclists. Taking up the whole road like they own the place.” He kicked a stray pebble off the trail for emphasis. “And the treasure hunters! Every five minutes, someone’s slipping into the trees with their little metal detector like they’re about to strike it rich.”
Maisie barely heard him. She’d spent some time working alongside Jake, a seasonal ranger who was heading to Bowdoin College in the fall, who was funny and easy to be around. They’d swapped trail stories, talked about favorite hikes, debatedthe best ice cream flavor in Bar Harbor. (Jake was wrong, it was clearly blueberry.)
Then, this morning just as they were about to head off to different locations with their teams, Jake had pulled out his phone.
“Hey, Maisie, give me your number,” Jake said, grinning. “Maybe we could hike together sometime. End with ice cream?”
Maisie’s heart practically stopped. This was it. Proof she was officially cool now. A cute guy wanted her number! But before she could even open her mouth, Frankie cut in.
“Dude, you could get arrested. She’s just a kid.”
Jake blinked. “Oh. Uh—”
Maisie whirled on Frankie, practically vibrating with fury. “I amnota kid.”
Frankie raised an eyebrow. “You still drink hot chocolate.”
“So do plenty of adults!”
“You still call it ‘squishy bread’ when a sandwich gets smushed.”
Maisie’s face burned. “That is completely irrelevant!”
