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Finn had only just finished with a list of chores his mother had provided him, for she had gone off to spend the afternoon with Jenny Lisle. If the two of them were surprised they got along so well, they didn’t show it. Maybe only Finn still stopped and marveled that they could be friends at all.

But in that moment, he wasn’t concerned with what his mother was off doing. Because Helena looked like she was gearing up for a nice long conversation that Finn really didn’t want to have.

What are you doing? his sister had asked.

I’m organizing your toolbox, he had replied, evenly. Before you say it, I know you don’t have a toolbox. I got you one. I know that you know perfectly well how to use each and every tool inside of it. So there should be no particular reason that you save up four hundred chores for Mom to make me do.

Helena had curled herself up in the corner of her couch, and had regarded him with a complete lack of the sort of hero worship and awe that he would have preferred she display, him being her wise older brother and all. I’m pretty sure she just felt sorry for you, Helena had said. She’s worried you don’t seem to have anything to do.

And it was a lucky thing that Finn had spent so many years keeping tight control of his temper. Because he hadn’t liked anything that Helena was saying. Especially because she’d said it so matter-of-factly.

His little sister was a menace. He was also aware that she was beautiful, though he and Raleigh always found that kind of entertaining. They didn’t really need to worry about the wrong kind of men pushing up on their sister. She was prickly enough on her own. One benefit of being raised by a conman, they had always thought, was that Helena could see one coming from a mile away. She wasn’t the least bit afraid to make a grown man cry.

Finn would just prefer it not be him.

For a moment he didn’t say anything. He’d finished carefully packing up the toolbox that he’d driven all the way down to Marietta to get for her, so she could stow it here at her cabin where she’d been nice enough to put up the whole family when they’d come to meet the Lisles with her.

I take it you want a response to that, he’d finally said, when he was done. I know you take great pleasure in throwing punches just to see where they land.

You’ve been here in Cowboy Point for half a year, Helena had said, mildly enough, but her blue eyes had been locked on him. Raleigh’s been tending bar at the Copper Mine. Mom’s been talking about helping out at the Feed Store. But as far as I can tell, my older brother who spent his life talking about work ethic and the importance of keeping busy is just… flailing.

I am not flailing, and have never flailed. He’d turned to face her, because he could see her all too easily from the kitchen that opened up into the living room where she’d been sitting, watching him closely. Much too closely and with a seriousness he didn’t much care for. If you asked me to flail right now, I wouldn’t be able to do it. I think you know that.

I think you’re depressed, Helena had said, and she’d clearly meant that to land the way it did. Like a stone. And who could blame you? You had your whole life taken away from you. Without warning.

I don’t talk about this, Finn had replied, evenly. I don’t want to talk about this.

She’d made a face as if to say, See? Depressed.

Finn didn’t think he was depressed. But he could understand why she thought he might have been. He cleared his throat. I appreciate what you’re trying to do here, Helena. Really I do. First of all, if I want to take a year off, that’s what I’m going to do. I can afford it. And maybe, this time, I thought I might take some time to think about what I want to do next. Make some plans. Not rush into something I’ll need to figure out as I go along.

That was a poke at her coffee business, which she clearly understood—but she didn’t react. I still think you’re depressed, she said.

This conversation is rapidly depressing me.

Helena sighed. I’ve never known you to go this long without lecturing us all on the benefits of hard work and then giving us a demonstration. I can only assume it’s rapidly approaching a medical issue. Come on, Finn. Are you Mom’s handyman now? Is that what you’re doing with your life?

Finn had left the cabin before he could say things that he would regret.

Because he knew how this went. He was the oldest brother. The siblings could poke at him all day long, but if he responded in kind? They fell apart.

He’d driven his truck down the hill, and he could see Cowboy Point Lodge in his rearview mirror as he went, standing proud at the summit on the far hill facing Copper Mountain. Rumor was it was finally opening this summer, possibly even soon. He’d met the Stark brothers, and the assorted cousins—including Kitty’s friend Sara Jane—and had found himself wondering what it was like to have a family business like that. Where everyone pitched in over generations whether they liked it or not.

He supposed the General Store was like that and he wondered if he’d end up working there too. Somehow, it always felt like he shouldn’t ask. Not only because he couldn’t really imagine himself stuck inside all day, but because that seemed like such a part of the Lisle family. Like maybe they didn’t need grubby Patrick hands all over it.

And how could he blame them for that? He couldn’t. He didn’t.

His phone had buzzed, but he’d suspected that it was his sister. So he’d waited to look at it until he pulled into the driveway of the clinic, then drove around back so he could park beneath the big tree and keep out of the way of the doctor and her patients.

Even if he’d doubted she or they were there, the day after her wedding.

Only then had he looked at his messages. Sure enough, it had been a text from Helena.

You and Kitty look cute together, she had texted. And I don’t think she’s the kind of woman to put up with any kind of nonsense, so really, I like her for you.

He’d ignored that too.

But tonight he found that he liked her for him too, the way he’d suspected he would when he’d first set eyes on her within days of coming to Montana.