Tonight wasn’t about a hundred unfinished to-dos. It wasn’t about the unchecked soil samples or the mowing he’d meant to do yesterday and still hadn’t gotten to today. It wasn’t about more work on the treehouse or wondering for the dozenth time if maybe he should’ve heeded Lilian’s concern about those footprints in the mud this morning.

Tonight was about Indi. And finally meeting that incognito fiancé of hers with the fancy name.

Neil breathed in the salty air, boots sinking into rocky sand, the picnic basket he carried bumping against his thigh. Maybe if he were honest, he didn’t even mind leaving the responsibilities of the farm behind—just for this one night. It was the perfect evening for a seaside picnic.

That is, if he could ignore the frustration rolling off Lilian in waves.

“It’s bad enough Patti Brighton-Smythe gets everyone hyped up about Thanksgiving at the farm, but then I find our houseguest hobnobbing with Cecil Atwater.”

His sister had been generously sharing her irritation since the moment they’d left the house, probably in an attempt to flush it out before Indi arrived with Bennington.

“Cecil’s harmless.” And as for those big Thanksgiving dinners, they’d pretty much been a thing of the past by the time he’d joined the family. But he’d heard about them—jovial, boisterous events. He’d seen pictures too—of the marquee tent and long tables, the Rinehart trio on their fiddles, and even a wooden dance floor.

Now the community dinner took place in town each Thanksgiving—sometimes in the square, sometimes in the high school gym. He usually stopped by, but never for longer than an hour or two. Not with Maggie waiting back home.

Up ahead, Sydney was helping Maggie spread a blanket over a stretch of sand and grass, Captain running circles around their feet. They’d spent the whole afternoon together after Indi dropped Sydney off at home after the meeting. No clue what they’d been up to all those hours but they sure looked happy together.

“Only two days and they’re already like peas in a pod.” Lilian’s gaze was glued on the two women, too, concern pinching her brow. “I can’t make myself feel good about her being here.”

Anymore, Neil didn’t know how to feel. He’d been skeptical from the start, but everything had changed with Sydney’s reaction to the treehouse. She’d caught his vision so effortlessly, her response to his plans filling him with a confidence he hadn’t even realized he needed. A gift, really. Surprising and energizing.

And then there was what Maggie had said this morning. She needs us.

And what he’d said. A sentiment that’d slipped free unbidden. Why would we need her, though? They were a happy, if non-traditional, family. Complete, he’d always thought.

But clearly Maggie hadn’t or she wouldn’t have spent all these years searching. When was the last time he’d seen her this lightened and lively?

He reached over to squeeze Lilian’s shoulder now as they neared the spot where Sydney and Maggie were setting up. “Maybe just try not to think about all that for the next couple of hours. This is Indi’s night. And it’s too nice out to spend it chewing on problems we can’t solve tonight.”

So warm, in fact, that a light jacket sufficed, no sign of this morning’s rain save a few wispy clouds lazing in the sky, their underbellies lit by the glowing orange of the sun leaning toward its slumber.

Lilian released a downcast sigh. “Indi’s night and yet she’s not even here for it.”

“She will be.” She was waiting back at the house for her fiancé to arrive.

“Do you really think this one’s for real, Neil? How many times has she told us she’s met someone? Countless. How many times have we actually met said someone?”

“Lil.”

“I love her and I would do anything for her, you know that. But she’s just so . . . Indi.”

He gave Lilian’s head a pat just as they reached the blanket. “Well, we can’t all be as logical and systematic as you, dear sister.”

Her teasing glare told him he’d succeeded on at least one count so far tonight—cheering her up. Lot of good that did, though, considering the man currently striding down the shore.

Maggie must’ve caught sight of Wilder at the same time as he did. “Oh good, he came.”

Lilian looked from Wilder, still in the distance, to Maggie. “You invited him?”

Apparently Neil wasn’t the only one to find his sister’s annoyance toward Wilder amusing. Sydney dipped her head, but not so quickly he missed her flash of a smile.

Maggie knelt and opened the picnic basket. “The man’s a bachelor. His father’s gone, no siblings. It’s the least we can do. He told me once he eats Pop-Tarts and frozen pizza regularly.”

“That doesn’t sound so bad to me.” Lilian dropped to the blanket, none of her usual refined manner in the movement. “Anyway, he told you that because he knew you’d take pity on him and it’d lead to this—regular invites and mooching off us.”

Maggie waved one hand, pulling a plastic container from the basket with her other. “Oh, come off it, Lil. He’s Neil’s best and only friend.”

Neil crossed his arms. “Hey—”

“Besides, he’s handsome. And you know how much Indi cares about aesthetics.” Maggie laughed at her own words.

“He’s not my only friend,” Neil grumbled.

“Not that handsome, either.” Lilian leaned over to help Maggie unload her basket. The smell of fried chicken wafted in the air.

Maggie tsked. “That dark hair, the dimple in his chin? I might have a few decades on you all, but my eyesight’s just fine. You agree with me, don’t you, Syd? Wilder—he’s not exactly unattractive, correct?”

Now why in the world would Maggie put Sydney on the spot like that? What an awkward, inappropriate question to—

“Oh, it’s one of the first things I noticed about him.” Sydney laughed, dropping down beside Maggie. “That is, after outrunning him, kicking him, and eventually deciding I wouldn’t need to mace him.”

Still standing, still with folded arms, Neil grunted. “How did we get on this subject?”

“What subject?” Wilder stole Captain’s attention the moment he reached them, the collie dashing to him. He knelt with a chuckle. “Hey, boy. Happier to see me than Miss Lilian, are you?”

Lilian glared; Maggie and Sydney laughed. No one answered his question.

And Neil, for some inexplicable reason, had to clamp his lips to keep from pointing out that Wilder wasn’t the only one with a dimple. Neil had two of them. Not that a person could probably tell at this point. Maybe he’d finally shave tomorrow.

“Where’s Indi?” Wilder plopped onto the blanket between Lilian and Neil.

Another question that went unanswered. And remained unanswered throughout the next five minutes. Then ten. After fifteen minutes of waiting, Lil texted her. At twenty minutes, Neil tried calling. Voicemail.

Finally, half an hour after they’d set up for the picnic, Indi texted. He’s running late. Go ahead and eat.

A full hour into the picnic and Indi still hadn’t arrived and what had started off as a merry, carefree evening had devolved into edgy concern and stilted conversation, Wilder doing most of the talking. His way of trying to ease the mood, certainly—surely even Lilian recognized that. Neil was just about to give in and go looking for his sister when Maggie’s sudden exhale let him know he wouldn’t have to.

He twisted his body to see Indi walking in their direction. Trudging, more like. Slowly. So the guy had stood her up. He stuffed his last bite of blueberry crumble in his mouth, knowing if he wasn’t chewing he’d end up wearing a frown that wouldn’t make Indi feel any better.

His sister stopped at the edge of the blanket, a heaviness tugging at her every feature. “He couldn’t make it.”

If there was more to the explanation, she clearly didn’t want to give it. Or maybe was too upset to.

“I filled you a plate, dear.” Maggie scooted to make room for her.

But Indi only shook her head. “Not really hungry.”

Any second now, Lilian would start in on the questions. Like always, needing to know the facts of a problem so she could figure out how to fix it.

But that’s not what Indi needed. Not in this moment.

He reeled to his feet. “Well, if you’re not eating, and now that we’re all here, are we doing this or what?”

Lilian’s forehead wrinkled. “Doing what?”

“You know what. Wilder, you’re in, aren’t you?”

Just as he knew he would, his friend jumped up. “Always.”

“Oh, don’t tell me you’re reviving this old game.” Maggie closed a container of pasta salad and replaced it in the basket. “I’m going to be stuck with a houseful of runny noses. You’ll all catch colds.”

“Old wives’ tale, Maggie,” Neil said as he peeled off his boot. “Indi?”

For a second, he thought she might refuse. But after a beat, she shook her shoulders, as if dusting off her disappointment. “Let it never be said I backed down from a challenge.”

“You’re cracked.” Lilian folded her arms. “All three of you.”

Sydney tipped her head to those of the group standing. “What’s going on?”

Maggie tsked. “Oh, nothing more than my fool children—”

“Plus me.” Wilder hopped on one foot as he yanked his shoe off the other foot.

“Plus Wilder,” Maggie amended, “about to give themselves pneumonia by trouncing into an ice-cold ocean for no other reason than to prove they can.”

“Not just to prove we can.” Cold sand folded over Neil’s bare feet. “But to prove who’s got the strongest mettle.” He looked down to Sydney. “The one who stays in the longest gets bragging rights. You’re welcome to join in.”

She looked almost as stricken as when she’d first spotted Melba. “Won’t you go numb?”

“That’s kind of the point.” Lilian stood now, shoes already off, shrugging free of her jacket. Always the same with Lilian—she decried the insanity right before joining in. “The faster you go numb, the better chance you have of making it past the first five minutes. Same rules as always?”

Neil nodded. “Waist-deep. No splashing.” Another glance to Sydney. Indi and Wilder were already heading toward the gap between tall rocks, the easiest place to enter the water on this stretch of shore. “Coming? It’ll be cold, but we’ve done this in the dead of winter before. Won’t be nearly as bad as that.”

For the barest moment, with the glowing, orange shades of dusk creating a halo over her hair, he could almost imagine Sydney Rose had always been a part of them. That she fit into their little family as easily as Wilder.

And maybe she wanted to. Because there was something deep and revealing in her sunlit eyes now as she watched the others race toward the water’s edge. A yearning so palpable he could almost hear its pulsing.

And then she smiled. “I’m in.”

Sydney reached the shoreline just as Indi and Lilian and Wilder were slogging in, the girls’ squeals rising above the sound of the water lapping at the edges of the rocky sand.

“Don’t dawdle, MacKean,” Wilder called, his voice trembling from the cold. “We have to keep this fair.”

She glanced over her shoulder just in time to see Neil catching up to her. Not once since coming to Muir Farm had she glimpsed such wild abandon on the man’s face. He spared her only a momentary glance before barreling into the water. “Come on, Syd. The longer you hesitate, the harder it gets to make yourself do it.”

She forced her feet into the ocean. Foam bobbed on the surface of the icy water as it tucked around her ankles, then her calves, her knees. Like a thousand stings all needling her at once and she couldn’t help a shiver.

“Oh my goodness.” She still had to make it in as far as her waist. That is, if she wanted to be a part of this ridiculous family tradition.

And she did. Oh, she did. She couldn’t have explained why if someone asked. She’d only been here two days, but she was sold on it—on all of it. The beauty of the sea. The closeness of this family. The earthy magic of Muir Farm.

Neil and Wilder had made it farther into the midnight blue ripples, being taller than the women. Indi had just about made it as far as Lilian.

Neil caught Sydney’s gaze, his carefree expression coaxing her onward.

Not entirely carefree, though. No, it was care for Indi that’d prodded him to his feet back at their picnic spot. She’d sensed exactly what he was doing—maybe all of them had. And for Indi, they’d played along. For Indi, they’d run into bitter-cold water, fully clothed and wholly dedicated to the bit.

By the time she was waist-deep, she could feel bumps raising on her skin and traveling all the way up her torso underneath her shirt. Indi’s lips were already turning blue, and Wilder wasn’t even trying to hide his shaking.

“We’re idiots,” Lilian said. “All of us.”

Sydney couldn’t stop a giggle. “To think, a few days ago, I’d never even seen the ocean. Now I’m standing in it.” And quickly losing the feeling in her legs. “One week I’m innocently waiting tables, no idea that a private eye was about to chase me home from work and t-talk me into flying to Maine.” Her teeth chattered with every word. “T-the next I’m walking into the Atlantic, just asking for a case of hypothermia.”

Neil’s eyes were on her again. “Some hosts we are, forcing you into this.”

“B-but at least you haven’t f-forced me to milk Melba yet.”

He chuckled before shooting Wilder a frown. “You really chased her home?”

Wilder shrugged. “She had mace. She was fine.”

A minute passed. Two. Maggie shouted from the shore, something about her “preposterous children.”

Finally, Indi dropped her arms to the water’s surface. “Lil is right. This is insane.” She pushed against the rippling water and hurried to the sand.

Sydney broke the next instant. “I honestly think I’d rather face off with Melba than stay here.” How could her feet be nearly numb already? With a splash, she twisted toward the shore, pushing against the water as quickly as she could, shivers racing through her and only intensifying as she reached the shore.

“You made it almost five minutes.”

At the surprise voice at her side, she stumbled. Neil?

His arm shot out to steady her. “Careful. The rocks are slick, especially when your feet are wet.”

“Y-you gave up a-already?”

“Eh, I’d rather be entertained by how long those two stubbornly face off than freeze to death myself.” He pointed his finger over his shoulder to where Lilian glared at Wilder in the water. “Though I don’t plan to stick around and see it in person.”

Up ahead, Indi had already nabbed her shoes and was jogging toward the trees that led to the house. Maggie, too, had started back in that direction, though she’d left the picnic basket and blanket behind.

Neil bent to retrieve his shoes and she did the same. When she straightened, another surprise—the weight of the blanket draping over her shoulders. “Oh, uh . . . thank you.”

As quickly as Neil had neared, he backed away, stooping once more to pick up the picnic basket. “Let’s go before the frostbite sets in.”

He took off at his usual resolute pace, bare feet sinking into the sand and long legs quickly widening the gap between them. But she didn’t move. Couldn’t. It was as if the cold had crept under her skin and made ice statues of her limbs.

Except, no, it wasn’t a chill coursing through her now. It was something else, something warmer. Waves of tumbling emotion, too many feelings moving too swiftly to name or differentiate.

Except for the one that bobbed at the surface, like a buoy under the light of a beacon. Longing. It wasn’t a new feeling. As a child, she’d longed for a parent’s affection. As a teenager, she’d craved stability. As a young adult, she’d wished for a career that filled her with purpose.

And she’d longed for family and a place to belong for pretty much her whole life.

But always before, the longing had been like a page from a child’s coloring book—black lines and blank spaces. Now . . . now her yearning had color. She wanted this family. She wanted this place.

Two days. You shouldn’t feel this strongly in just two days, Syd. It’s impossible. Maybe she was just affected by the crazy turn her life had taken. Maybe she was just cold and wet and tired . . .

Distracted by the sight of Neil’s sopping wet shirt clinging to his broad shoulders.

Why had he given her the blanket?

As if sensing her gaze, he slowed and then stopped entirely. He’s waiting for me. Captain bounded to her as she hurried to catch up, clutching the blanket around her neck, the ground rough underneath her feet.

“You okay?” he asked as she neared.

She only nodded, somehow certain if she tried to speak, her voice would clog or, worse, her eyes fill with tears. Bizarre. Must be the sea salt air infecting her logical, rational side. Or maybe she’d lost that piece of herself the moment she’d called Wilder Monroe and agreed to fly to Maine.

Neil started walking again, this time keeping his strides shorter, content, it seemed, to let the silence stretch. He’d been like this last night as they painted—unbothered, even comfortable, with quiet. Not that he hadn’t talked at all. He’d spoken, at times, about the farm, about how he’d started working the fields full-time following his high school graduation.

Sometimes, when he was speaking freely, the Scottish lilt to his words deepened. What was it that newspaperman had said earlier today? Something about Neil having a rocky background. Had he been born in Scotland? The accent sure suggested it, but how had he ended up here?

“Neil—”

“Hey, Sydney.” Wilder’s winded voice rose up behind them, stealing her chance to pry into Neil’s past. “Wait.”

“Guess Lil outlasted him. She’ll gloat about that for weeks.” Neil reached down to pat Captain as Wilder jogged over uneven ground.

The man reached them in seconds, wet jeans plastered to his legs. “Going home to thaw out,” he sputtered as he came to a halt. “But first, Sydney, I didn’t want to mention this in front of everyone, considering Indi and, well . . . anyway.”

“Spit it out.” Neil rubbed his palms together and blew into them.

“No one said you had to stay.” Wilder gave his friend a mock glare before returning his focus to Sydney. “Just wanted to let you know, I finally got ahold of CarleeAnn Picknell’s younger brother.”

The blanket slipped from one shoulder. Brother? “I . . . I knew you were searching for relatives. But I was thinking . . . distant ones.”

“Well, distant is about right.” Wilder mimicked Neil, blowing into his hands. “Her brother—stepbrother, actually—was twelve years younger than her. From our one very short conversation, it sounds as if they weren’t close at all. He was only six when CarleeAnn dropped out of college. Seven, the year of the accident. He . . .” Wilder glanced at Neil. “He doesn’t remember anything about his step-sister having a baby.”

It didn’t prove anything. But it didn’t disprove anything, either.

Wilder went on. “He works for a wildlife bureau, which is why I’ve had so much trouble tracking him down. He’s been up in some forest in Canada studying migration patterns or something. But he’s back in the States now and he’s agreed to come to town. This weekend, actually. He’ll be at the Autumn Market on Saturday.”

Saturday. Four days from now. By then she’d have been at Muir Farm for nearly a week. How much more attached might she be by then? “So he’s either my uncle or . . .”

“Or just the brother of your birth mom’s childhood best friend,” Wilder finished for her. “Unfortunately, DNA testing still isn’t an option, not with him being a stepsibling. And I don’t know if meeting him will get us any further, but he did say he has a few boxes in storage from his parents’ old house. He’s going to look through them, see if there’s anything that might help us. For now, there’s a hot shower back home calling my name. See you guys later.”

He took off in the other direction, Captain chasing after him for a few seconds before reversing course to return to them. Despite her wet clothes and the cold coiling around her, she bent when Captain neared and buried her fingers in his warm fur, letting him lick her face before standing again and readjusting the blanket around her shoulders.

When she rose, it was to see Neil’s blue-gray eyes pinned on her, his scrutiny tinged with a sort of curious realization.

“You really don’t know.” His voice was soft and low. “This isn’t just a free vacation to you. Or a game.”

“Definitely not a game.” She tugged the blanket tighter. “I just want to know who I am.”

“Well . . . I hope you find out.”

If he’d said those same words Sunday evening, she was certain he wouldn’t have meant them. But tonight, with twilight draping the landscape around them in misty shadows, it was different. He was different.

They started walking again, picking their way through the trees, toward splotches of light from the house on the other side.

“Are you going to work on the treehouse tonight?”

Captain raced ahead as Neil shook his head. “Probably not tonight. Not really sure what kind of frame of mind Indi will be in, but in case she wants to talk . . .”

Oh, yes, about the no-show fiancé. She gave Neil a sidelong glance, took in the concern wrinkling his brow. “It was nice—what you did back there. Taking the attention off her, I mean. Getting everyone to go running into the ocean.”

He didn’t respond.

“Lilian said you’re the reason Indi was able to open her store. And Maggie told me one of the reasons you didn’t go to college was because you knew Lilian would eventually want to go to law school. You wanted there to be money for that.”

“When did my family members get so talkative?”

She didn’t look at him as she spoke. “I’m trying to say you’re obviously a good brother to them. You should give them a chance to be good sisters to you.”

He slowed, the breeze lifting his hair. “What do you mean?”

“Well, Cecil from the newspaper said something today about the farm going downhill.”

His gaze narrowed. “It’s not going downhill. What would Cecil know about the farm anyway?”

“When you showed me the treehouse last night, you said the farm could really use the extra income. And I know I’ve only been here two days, but I’ve seen how hard you work and . . .” She didn’t know why she was saying any of this. What right did she have to interfere in any of his business? But halting her words seemed as impossible as stopping the chattering of her teeth. “And now you’re considering a side venture, but no one else knows about it. It just seems like you carry the load of this whole place on your shoulders—and yours alone. You don’t have to do everything on your own, Neil. You’ve got this amazing family. Let them help you.”

She thought he might rebuff her. Tell her she didn’t know what she was talking about. He’d be completely within his rights. Instead, he glanced over at her. What did he see when he looked at her?

Probably a virtual stranger offering advice he never asked for.

But that wouldn’t explain the slight crinkling at the corners of his eyes or the ghost of a smile playing over his lips. “Maybe you are Maggie’s granddaughter. That’s the kind of thing she’d say.”

“Well, she’d be right.”

“The thing is, sometimes I feel like it’s my fault we’re struggling financially. I’m the one who said we needed a harvester about a decade back. We had to take out a pretty hefty loan and I didn’t realize how hard it’d be to catch up after that. I thought we’d save money, not needing to hire such a big crew for hand raking. We still hire a small crew, but not nearly as many.”

His pace stopped almost entirely as they emerged from the trees, his words trailing. His eyes moved past her, over her shoulder, his mouth widening into an O. She angled to follow his gaze. “Are those . . . ?”

He groaned and nodded. “Indi’s goats. And the chickens.”

All loose and roaming the backyard.

And then his hand was on her shoulder. “You should get to the house. Melba’s probably around here somewhere too.”