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“People change,” Tate said.

“I know they do.” She set the knife down. “But I’d just asked him to be open with me. He knew this mattered.”

Jason lowered his gaze to the counter. When he looked up, the crease between his brows had deepened. “I didn’t know you’d asked him.”

“I did.”

No one immediately answered. Rylee held out the salad bowl, and Lydia tipped the cucumber into it.

“I’m not asking you to take sides,” she said. “But I don’t want to spend dinner defending myself.”

Jason nodded. “Fair enough. I already overstepped once. I’m trying to get better at this.”

“You could practice by putting the water glasses out,” Rylee suggested.

He gave her a look, but took the glasses from the cupboard. Lydia reached for one as he passed. He handed it over without another question.

They carried the glasses to the table. Cece had set a plate in Lydia’s usual place beside Wren, with a folded napkin and the fork her sister always claimed was too small. Lydia straightened it while everyone settled around her.

Tate passed the potatoes. Rylee asked Cece about a plan she’d mentioned earlier, and Wren nudged the bread basket toward Lydia. For a little while, she could listen and let the conversation move without her.

Jason waited until she’d served herself before speaking again.

“There’s one thing I can tell you about Chet. If you want to hear it.”

Lydia rested the serving spoon in the bowl. “Okay.”

“When we first talked about the business, he wanted to know whether we could keep it going year-round. He wanted a place to stay, work he could build on.” Jason glanced at her. “That was before you two started dating.”

She looked at him across the table. “You’re saying he wanted to settle down.”

“He did. He still does. I wouldn’t have gone into business with him if I thought he was just waiting for the next rodeo.”

Lydia looked down at her plate. In the restaurant, Chet had said he didn’t have time to compete right now. Right now. That had stayed with her. Jason was describing a decision Chet had made before she’d become part of his plans.

“His father moved them around a lot,” Jason continued. “Chet was tired of that. He wanted somewhere he could come home to.”

She thought of the stalls and the quiet pride in him when he’d told her Misty had accepted a saddle. At the time, she’d been relieved they could talk about ordinary matters. She hadn’t considered what those small successes meant to him, or how much work he’d put into making this place his home.

“I believe he cares about the business,” she said. “And this place.”

“But that doesn’t answer why he didn’t tell you,” Rylee said.

Lydia lifted her head. “No. It doesn’t.”

Jason turned his glass between his hands. “That part’s for him to explain.”

She’d expected him to give her reasons. To tell her Chet had only been waiting for the right moment, or that she should’ve asked sooner. Instead, he reached for the potatoes and passed them to Wren when she held out her hand.

Lydia took a bite of the potatoes on her plate. Jason’s account of those early plans gave her firmer footing than Chet’s rushed answers at the restaurant. He’d wanted to build a life here before they’d started dating. That mattered, even though she still needed Chet to explain why he’d kept quiet when she asked.

“Did he look okay today?” Wren asked, low, beside her.

Lydia considered telling her he’d looked fine. But Wren had asked gently, and she didn’t want to brush her off.

“Tired.” She glanced toward the brownies on the kitchen counter. “He bought something he doesn’t even like.”

Wren followed her gaze. “Black Forest?”