She thought about the last time she’d stood on this property. Sarah’s funeral had been a gray, cold day in late October. The ground had been hard beneath her heels—an uncomfortable reminder of her grief.
She’d stayed four days. When it was over, she’d hugged her family and told them to call if they needed anything.
They’d all talked, but they’d kept her in the dark about this.
She hadn’t pushed.
Somewhere in the space between California and Virginia, she’d let herself believe that not hearing about any problems meant everything was fine.
It wasn’t fine. It hadn’t been fine, and she hadn’t been here to see it. Wasn’t that what family was supposed to do—help carry each other’s burdens?
Guilt pounded her. She’d been so wrapped up in herself that she hadn’t seen it.
She cleared her throat. “Is there anything I can do now?”
Caleb frowned as he considered her question. “Right now? No. Micah knows about what’s happening, and we’ve got a lawyer—Kori, actually—who handles the filings when they come in. It’s managed.”
Not resolved. Not over. Just managed.
Rowan’s gaze shot across the property—from the house to the kennels to the open land. Her family had turned this property into a place that mattered, a haven that helped the most vulnerable.
Meanwhile, Rowan had spent ten years trying to prove she could be somebody.
Here, her family had quietly been doing exactly that—while someone worked just as quietly to take it from them.
She wasn’t going to let that happen. She didn’t know how she’d stop it, but somehow, she would.
Rowan had been trying to occupy herself since she’d come inside. Too much time on her hands meant too much time to think.
Then Naomi stepped into the room, Grace against one shoulder and a purse and diaper bag slung over the other. “I need to run into town for a few things for the baby. Formula, diapers . . . all the glamorous stuff.”
Rowan perked. “Mind if I come with you?”
Naomi paused and gave her a look. “You sure that’s a good idea?”
“Why wouldn’t it be?”
“Because half the country probably knows your face.”
A knot tightened low in Rowan’s stomach.Fair point.
She didn’t have superstar status or anything, but she’d been in enough movies and shows that some people paused when they saw her. They tried to place her. On occasion, she ran into a superfan who got starstruck.
Naomi nodded toward the side door. “Blue Ridge Hollow may be small, but people still watch entertainment news and movies.”
Rowan glanced at the row of hooks mounted beside the door. An old navy baseball cap hung from one of them.
A slow smile tugged at her mouth. “I have a plan for that.”
She crossed the room, grabbed the cap, and pulled it low over her hair before reaching into her purse for her oversized sunglasses.
Naomi blinked once. “That’syour big plan?”
Rowan slid the sunglasses into place. “You underestimate the power of avoiding eye contact.”
Naomi laughed as Rowan glanced at the mirror near the door.
The hat shadowed most of her face, and the dark lenses hid the rest.
