Eliza laughs. “You'll be fine. I promise.”
I feel a little lighter. The comfort we shared last night feels distant now, but seeing her laugh, even for a moment, takes the edge off. It's a reminder that maybe, despite everything, we can still find moments of ease between us.
“I should go change,” she says, tugging at the oversized clothes she borrowed from Matt and already moving toward the door. “I'll see you at the lodge in a bit?”
“Yeah, of course,” I reply, watching her go.
As the door closes behind her, I exhale slowly, tension easing from my shoulders. A whole day working side by side with her. I should look forward to it, and part of me does. But another part wonders how I’m going to get through it without revealing how much I want more than friendship. How am I supposed to be a gentleman all day when all I can think about is how much I want to kiss her?
I get ready for the day ahead. There's work to be done, regardless of personal complications or an angry, hulking brother.
An hour later, I'm at the main lodge, helping to unload supplies from the newly arrived trailers. Several heavy-duty ATVs are parked nearby, their engines cooling after the arduous trip up the mountain. Kane, Rhys, and Reid are already hard at work, their movements efficient and practiced. It's clear they know these buildings inside and out.
Eliza arrives, looking determined but out of her element. As we distribute the supplies—construction materials, tools, and essentials—I overhear Kane talking to her.
“Heard from Finn this morning,” he says, hefting a box of nails. “He's trying to get back, but Hank can't fit him into the charter schedule yet.”
“At least he knows what's happening,” she says. “Did you tell him we're handling it?”
Kane nods. “Of course.”
As the day progresses, I watch Eliza navigate her role. She's not really in charge. Her brothers' experience and familiarity with the buildings naturally put them at the forefront of the repair efforts. But she's there, learning and helping. Her determination is obvious in every task she tackles.
I admire her adaptability. It can't be easy, wanting to prove yourself capable while working alongside family members who've been doing this for years. I see the occasional flash of frustration in her eyes when one of her brothers takes over a task she was working on, but she always rallies, finding another way to contribute.
As I watch the Hollister siblings work together, a bittersweet ache settles in my chest. An only child raised by a single mom who worked two jobs, I never had anything like this. Despite my construction experience, there's something different about working alongside family—about having people who get it.
“Hey, Matt,” Rhys calls out, interrupting my thoughts. “Could you give me a hand with this support beam? We have to make sure it's properly anchored.”
Working alongside them, I open up more than I have in years. I share stories from my time in construction, offer suggestions based on my experience, and even crack some jokes. Now and then, I catch Eliza laughing at something I've said, or we share a glance across the worksite.
It's those moments that make me feel like I belong here, like this could be my place—not only with her family, but with her.It feels satisfying to be part of a team again, to use my skills for something constructive instead of dwelling on past mistakes.
By mid-afternoon, we've made significant progress on the lodge. The great room, once a wreck of shattered glass and broken beams, is starting to take shape again. The vaulted ceiling rises high above us, with exposed wooden beams now reinforced and secure. Sunlight streams through the tall windows on the eastern wall, where Reid crouches, fitting the last pane into place. Near the stone fireplace at the far end, Rhys and Kane work on a ladder, securing the new metal panels for the roof, their muffled voices occasionally carrying across the space. The crackling fire in the hearth, though subdued, offers a gentle reprieve from the chill that lingers in the air.
In the center of the room, Eliza and I tackle the remaining debris. Together, we've swept away splintered wood and fragments of glass, clearing the floor to reveal the worn but sturdy planks beneath. As we pause for a quick break, Eliza approaches me with two bottles of water in hand, her cheeks flushed from the effort and the cold.
“You're fitting in well,” she says, handing me one bottle. “I think my brothers are impressed.”
I accept the water gratefully. “If by 'fitting in well' you mean your brothers haven't tossed me off the roof yet, then yes, I'd say I'm doing great.”
Eliza laughs, her eyes sparkling with amusement. “Give yourself some credit, Matt. They like you.”
“Thanks,” I say. “They're great guys. It's been ... nice, working with all of you like this.”
Eliza tilts her head, studying me. “You know, it's refreshing to see you opening up. You seem more relaxed today.”
I take a sip of water, considering her words. “Yeah, I guess I have been. It's been a long time since I've felt part of something like this. Working together, joking around ... it feels right, but?—”
“But?” Eliza prompts, her blue eyes searching mine.
I sigh. “But it also reminds me of what I never had—family, people who have your back no matter what. Don't get me wrong, I'm grateful to be here. It's ... bittersweet, I guess.”
As soon as I say it, I regret it. The light mood we had been sharing shifts, and I feel a pang of guilt. I didn't mean to bring things down. I needed her to understand.
Eliza's expression softens, and she places a hand on my arm. Her touch is warm, grounding me. “Matt, I'm sorry. I didn't realize.”
I shake my head. “You don't have to apologize,” I say, trying to keep things from getting too heavy. “It's not bad. Honestly, it's nice to see. And ... it feels good to be a part of it, even if it's only for a little while.”
