It shouldn’t be so hard to find one man.

Sydney burst into the kitchen through the back door, out of breath from jogging to the barn and then to the treehouse and back again. And that was after having stopped at the hospital first.

“Not . . . cut out . . . for this.”

“Uh, Syd? You okay?” Lilian walked in, coat and gloves on. Was she leaving or just arriving? Had she come in the front door just as Sydney had barreled in the back?

And those other voices . . . maybe . . . “I’m fine. Um, is everyone with you?”

“Indi’s here. And Wilder, of course. Because he’s apparently never not with us. We just grabbed lunch in town and then stopped here to change. We’re heading back in to the hospital. Have you been to see Maggie yet? I mean, since she’s been awake.”

She shook her head, still trying to catch her breath. Oh, she had to look ridiculous. Her old coat was unbuttoned, her shirt underneath wrinkled from being in her suitcase all night, and somewhere on her run, she’d lost a glove. And she didn’t have one single doubt the sea salt air had wreaked havoc on her hair.

“But . . . but Neil’s not with you?”

“Oh, he’s here. He came back separately. Skipped lunch so he could do chores.”

Which meant he’d probably been out at the barn when she’d been here and then . . . why hadn’t they crossed paths?

“He’s upstairs?”

Lilian nodded and Sydney hurried past her, but the woman’s footsteps followed. “Is everything okay? Weren’t you picking up Micah this morning?”

“Oh yeah. He—”

“Sydney’s here?” Indi came into the hallway from the dining room, Wilder behind her.

“Maggie’s been asking about you,” Wilder said. “You can ride with Lil and me if you—”

“No.” She blurted it louder than she meant to and three pairs of eyes stared at her. “I mean . . . I mean, yes, I definitely want to see Maggie. Again, that is. I did see her this morning but she wasn’t awake yet. But you already know that.”

“Are you sure you’re okay?” Lil asked.

“Y-yes. I just need to talk to your brother. But I’ll come to the hospital. Later. Promise.” She squeezed past the crowd in the hallway and rushed to the staircase, clambering up. Then stopping halfway.

With a grin, she scrambled back down, reaching for the coat still draped over the banister. Neil’s coat, left there the night before when she’d been sure—so sure—she had to leave.

But that’d been before she knew what she knew now.

That there was one thing Nikola hadn’t had right. She’d realized it as she’d run all over the farm looking for Neil. It had never been about the happy ending at all. But a new beginning.

She raced up the steps, Neil’s coat under her arm, not slowing until she reached the second floor, her gaze swinging from Neil’s open bedroom door down the hallway to the closed door in front of her.

This time, she noticed the sliver of light underneath. And heard the patter of water and then the squeal of the faucet and, a second later, the sound of the shower curtain being pushed aside.

In which case, this time, she would not go barreling in. She stopped and forced herself to breathe. She would knock. Like a civilized person.

Anxious energy mingled with anticipation as she lifted her fist and rapped.

“Go without me, Lil. I’ll drive to the hospital separately.”

“It’s not Lilian.”

Silence.

And then a rustle of clothing, the sound of the door’s latch, and his head poked out, hair still dripping. “Syd? You’re here?”

“Well, you told me not to go home until Sunday and it’s not Sunday, so . . .”

“Hmm.”

Not what he wanted to hear, clearly. Which did her nervous heart a world of good. “Are you dressed?”

He glanced down. “Partially.”

“Well, could you get all the way dressed? I need to talk to you.”

“Hmm,” he said again. “Decided not to just barge in on me this time?” Despite the hint of fatigue in his eyes—had the poor man slept at all last night?—one corner of his mouth lifted.

“I’ve learned this new skill. It’s called knocking.”

“Hmm, pity.” He closed the door in her face.

She grinned and knocked again. “You better be getting dressed in there. I don’t have all day.”

“Yeah, Neil. Get dressed,” Indi’s voice called. “We’re getting curious down here.”

Sydney whirled to see all three of them crowded at the base of the staircase. Oh, lovely. She hadn’t counted on having an audience for this.

Before she could say another word—either a polite request or outright demand for privacy—the door behind her opened again and an arm shot out, tugging her into the bathroom, her shriek colliding with the latch of the door.

Hot, humid air curled around her and she caught a glimpse of the still-steam-blurred mirror before Neil turned her to face him. Flannel shirt and jeans—she wouldn’t have expected anything else. But the shirt was still unbuttoned and the bare feet were a change.

“You had something to say?” He started buttoning his shirt.

She swallowed. “Um, well. I mean, I could’ve waited until you were . . . I didn’t really think . . . in here . . .”

His hands stilled near the top of his shirt. “Why do you have my coat?”

“Oh, um.” Another swallow. A deep breath. “I was hoping you wouldn’t mind if I borrowed it for a little longer.”

He dropped his hands. Pushed up his sleeves. Which meant maybe she wasn’t the only one getting overly warm in this small bathroom and that . . . that was a good sign.

“Is that so?”

So very close to smiling. “You see, it’s getting colder. And since I fully intend to show you that I am capable of milking a cow, I might need something a little warmer like this.”

“Is that so?”

“You’re very repetitive today. Two ‘is that so’s’ and you hmm-ed me three times.” She draped his coat over a towel hook on the back of the door. “Must be what lack of sleep does to you.”

“Some of us fall asleep in treehouses. Some of us get repetitive.” He took a step closer to her. “You said you wanted to talk.”

“Yes, well, it’s just . . . I realized we never had that conversation you said we needed to have. The one where you tell me how you feel about me and I tell you how I feel about you and we figure out where to go from there.” She leaned against the counter, gripping it behind her, as if it could somehow steady her shaking voice. “S-so I thought I’d at least say my part—how I feel about you and where I think we should go from here. Which is nowhere. Because I like it right here. I want to stay right here.”

Finally. Finally, he was smiling, dimples and everything. Enough to make her breath catch as he closed the last inches between them, stretching out his arms to lean on the counter, his hands beside hers, trapping her between them.

“I guess I got that backwards, though, because I haven’t told you how I feel about you.”

“I think maybe I get the general idea.” His voice had turned husky.

“But I still want to tell you because I’ve thought really hard about this.” Although how she was supposed to eke the words out with him standing so close, she couldn’t possibly know. “How I feel about you is that you’re just way too busy. And you don’t know a thing about websites. And you could really use my help to get your rental business off the ground. And I could use the job if I’m not going back to Mezzani’s. But mostly, I could really use being around you every day because I think you’re my favorite person I’ve ever met.”

She barely got out her final words before he swept her away in a kiss she’d been imagining since the moment she’d given her heart the freedom to follow its path and carry her here. She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him back—never more certain, never more sure she was right where she’d always wanted to be.

Even if she hadn’t known . . . hadn’t been brave enough to dream.

She was brave now.

“Just so you know, I do still have to go back to Chicago.”

He shook his head and kissed her again. “You can’t. I won’t let you. And I don’t think Maggie will, either.”

Oh, yes, Maggie. “I still have to tell her . . .”

“She knows. She was more aware than you realized when you were there earlier today. She said it doesn’t change how she feels about you.”

She stilled in his arms. “She’s not too upset?”

“I’m sure when everything settles down a little and she’s out of the hospital and life gets back to normal, some disappointment might set in. Not so much about you not being Cynthia, but just all the still-unanswered questions. But if I know Maggie, she’s going to keep looking for answers. And I’m going to do a better job now supporting her in it.”

“You are a ridiculously good man, Neil MacKean.”

“See, you say stuff like that and then you wonder why I don’t want you to leave.”

She laughed and kissed his cheek. “I have to. I’ve got to take care of my apartment, and my boss at Mezzani’s has been so good to me over the years that I should really give him two weeks’ notice.”

“Nope, too long.”

“Neil.”

“Syd.” He touched his forehead to hers. “As long as you come back . . .”

“Of course. There’s Melba to consider. And, after all, you haven’t told me how you feel about me.”

His arms tightened around her. “I was thinking I might spend the rest of my life telling you that.”

Oh, how her heart sang at that. No, it thumped. So loudly he could probably hear it through her shirt. So loud his sisters could probably hear it from outside the bathroom door, where they surely stood now.

“But for now . . .” Neil trailed kisses from her ear back to her mouth. “I think I’ll just tell you that I love you. And I don’t even care that it’s only been two weeks. I love you.”

“I love you, too.” Her hands moved to his face, his cheeks scratchy, her thumbs tracing his dimples. “I wonder if we’ve beat Maggie and Robert’s record.”

“I wonder if my sisters and Wilder have heard every word we’ve just said.”

Their laughter rang out from the hallway and he kissed her again.

“And I wonder if I’ll ever get tired of that,” she whispered against his lips.

“Don’t count on it, Sydney Rose. And remind me to fill you in on my new last name.” He pulled her closer and dipped his head once more. “Later.”