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Landon smiles down at Honey. “She’s been glued to the heater this year. She’s getting too old for this weather.”

“She’s just a baby.”

He snorts. “She’s older than both of your babies combined.”

“God, really?” I quickly do the mental math in my head and, sure enough, it really has been that long since me, Landon, and Piper found Honey. It was Landon’s and Piper’s shared birthday—his seventeenth, her fourteenth—and my dad gave Landon his old truck. He took us on a drive to get birthday ice cream sundaes, and Piper spotted the snoozing ball of gold by the side of the road. A lot has changed since then, but Honey still loves to sleep.

Landon slides a pair of shears and a pile of branches my way. I guess I’m being put to work.

“Speaking of my babies,” I say, picking up a branch and trimming away a piece that’s seen better days, “I’ve just been talking to Cane about riding lessons for Cait.”

“Oh, yeah? I thought you couldn’t swing it this year? Or have you finally agreed to let us help?”

I narrow my eyes at my brother, before remembering I technically am here to ask for help. “Kind of. You know the fields Piper’s dad used to use for his horses? The ones that border Cane’s land?”

“Sure. I don’t use any of the fields up there.”

“Right. Well, Cane was planning to ask if he could rent them out, and he suggested I ask if you’d be okay just taking the cost of lessons off his monthly rent.”

Landon raises his eyebrows. “That would actually be a huge help for me. I’ve been considering selling them because they’re just sitting unused, but they’re in an awkward spot. Cane’s welcome to use them, and he doesn’t have to pay anything on top of the lessons.”

“Seriously? Thank you. Cait’s going to be so happy.”

Relief floods me but catches in my chest, and I look away, blinking, before I cry.

“Scar?” Landon asks, clearly concerned. He pulls the shears out of my shaking hand and sets them on the bench. “You okay? What’s going on?”

“Of course I’m fine. Just happy Cait’s getting her lessons.” Even I can hear how unconvincing I sound.

“Talk to me. Please. You’ve been doing a really good job of holding everything together, especially since Killian got here, but how are you really doing?”

I start to rub my face, but grimace when I realize my fingers are sticky with pine sap. Washing it off, at least, gives me a second to collect myself. A second that means nothing when I turn back to Landon, open my mouth to assure him I’m okay, and burst into tears. Shit.

Where the hell did this come from?

Landon jumps up and wraps me in a tight hug. He smells like pine and earth and home—like our dad. I sob into his flannel, and he lets me without complaint. This isn’t the first time I’ve cried like this with him. I’ve never been good at processing things as they happen; I let everything build and build until something knocks over my carefully stacked tower of avoidance, and I crumble right along with it. Unfortunately for him, it often happens when he’s around.

He was the first person to find out I was pregnant with James. I was trying to keep it to myself until I could tell Dom in person, but he texted to cancel another visit when Caitlin was sick. Landon showed up with homemade soup for us five minutes after I got the text, and I lost it. I couldn’t even tell him why; I just dragged him upstairs and showed him the test on the bathroom counter.

After he got me settled on the couch with a bowl of soup, and a chamomile tea, he let me cry it out, then calmed me down by promising me that Caitlin was going to love being a big sister as much as he loved being my big brother. I didn’t know then how right he would be, but he’d never steered me wrong before, so I took his word for it.

He’s strong and steady like an oak tree, and an excellent person to cry it out on. But I also know he won’t let me cry and not talk about it, and that just makes me cry for longer. I run out of tears eventually, though, and Landon hands me a clean rag to wipe my face with before gesturing for me to sit down.

“Talk, Scar.”

“I’m just … so tired,” I croak. “I have to be switched on 24/7. I never stop, and I know that’s just the reality of parenting, but I never thought this is where I’d be at twenty-six. This isn’t the life I planned. I’m doing the job of two parents, and I feel like I’m failing at both. And I love Caitlin and James so much, but this isn’t the life I want to give them, either. They deserve more than this. More than …” I trail off, but the unspoken “me” is loud.

Landon furrows his brow. “God, Scarlett. Is that really what you think? They’re the happiest kids, and you’re an amazing mom. No one else could do a better job with them. Sure, they don’t have all the newest toys and clothes or whatever—and we’re going to talk about that in a minute—but they have everything they need. What do you think they’re missing out on?”

“A dad who wants to be in their lives,” I say without thinking and something like pity shines in Landon’s eyes.

“I would argue that they’re not missing anything by not having Dom in their lives, but I suspect that doesn’t help.”

“It doesn’t.”

“Right. But, Scar, that’s not on you. You know that, right? You’ve done everything you can to facilitate a relationship there, and he’s an asshole who doesn’t know what he’s missing out on.”

“But I picked him! And I don’t regret it, obviously, because Caitlin and James exist, but I still should’ve known better.”