Reese Witherspoon. Rowan hadlovedher movies back in high school.
Wes pocketed his phone and looked toward the house.
Two hours. He’d finish what he owed Caleb, and then he’d go find out what was in that envelope.
“You with me?” Caleb asked as he returned to their conversation.
“Yeah.” Wes looked back at his notes. “Tell me about the property lines again.”
Rowan sat at the kitchen table with a mug of warm tea she wasn’t drinking and her phone face down on the surface in front of her.
The house was quiet. Naomi was with Grace, and Millie was outside tending to the chickens. The dogs were settled. The light through the windows had gone gold and long.
She’d checked the clock four times in the last twenty minutes.
Footsteps sounded on the stairs, and Rowan looked up.
The woman who appeared in the doorway looked to be in her early thirties, with dark hair pulled back and certain wariness in her eyes.
The woman stopped when she saw Rowan, and something shifted in her expression. First, it was surprise. Thenrecognition. Then a visible internal debate about what to do with both.
“I’m sorry.” She took a half step back. “I didn’t know anyone was in here. I can come back.”
“Please don’t.” Rowan straightened and managed a smile. “I could use the company. I’m Rowan.”
The woman hesitated, then crossed to the counter and reached for the tea kettle.
“I know who you are.” She glanced at her, an almost shy look in her gaze. “I’m Dana.”
“How long have you been a guest here, Dana?”
“Two weeks.” Dana poured her hot water into a mug and wrapped both hands around the mug, staying near the counter rather than sitting. “Coming here was an answer to prayer.”
“I’m really proud of my siblings for everything they’ve done here.”
Dana’s eyes widened. “You’re Naomi and Caleb’s sister? I had no idea.”
Rowan shrugged. “They’re really the superstars here.”
Dana glanced at her sideways, and the corner of her mouth twitched in something that wasn’t quite a smile but was close. “I’ve seen all your movies. Twice, most of them. My daughter thinks you’re the most beautiful person alive. She’s not with me right now. She’s at her grandma’s house.”
“Your daughter sounds like a person of excellent taste.”
Dana laughed—a short, surprised sound, like she’d forgotten she could. Then she looked down at her mug. “You’re too funny.”
“It’s one of the more positive things that have been said about me.”
Dana’s eyes narrowed as she studied Rowan another moment. “But I have to say . . . you seem worried about something. Don’t get me wrong—it’s none of my business. But it seems like something worth mentioning.”
Rowan opened her mouth to deflect, then closed it again.
There was something about Dana’s directness—quiet and without agenda—that made the usual routine feel more exhausting than it was worth.
“I am,” she said simply.
Dana nodded, unsurprised. She was quiet a moment as she turned her mug in her hands. Then she said, “Can I tell you something? You don’t have to listen.”
“Go ahead.”
