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Sienna stood beside him, looking increasingly miserable.

“Please stop fighting,” she whispered.

I turned toward her immediately.

“Oh, sweetheart, I’m sorry. This isn’t what I wanted.”

Duncan rested a hand on her shoulder.

“I’m sorry we’ve argued in front of you, sweetheart,” he said.

She looked up at him with tears shining in her eyes.

“But it’s about my costume.”

He drew a slow breath.

“I know. We’ll talk about the costume when we get home.”

“You’re just going to say no again.”

“I haven’t changed my answer about the scars, but I’m willing to talk about the rest of it.”

She looked away.

I could see how much Sienna wanted him to understand, but she was miserable enough already. Whatever Duncan was afraid of, I wasn’t going to argue with him over her head any longer.

Sienna wiped her cheek with her sleeve.

“Goldie didn’t lie, Dad.”

Duncan glanced down at her, then back at me.

He still hadn’t apologized to me.

I waited another moment, giving him the opportunity to tell me he’d misunderstood or that we’d talk about it later.

He said nothing.

All the warmth I’d carried with me from Saturday, from last night, and from waking beside him that morning seemed suddenly very far away.

I looked at Sienna.

“I’m sorry today’s been upsetting. I had a really wonderful time with you yesterday, and I hope you’ll show your dad your drawings when you’re ready.”

She nodded, tears clinging to her lashes.

“Are you leaving?”

I wanted to hug her.

I wanted to tell her that her father and I would work this out, that I’d see her again soon, and that none of this had to change how much I’d enjoyed getting to know her.

But I couldn’t promise those things.

“I need to go back to the cottage,” I said gently. “Your dad’s going to take you home, and you two have some things to talk about.”

She looked toward Duncan.