Her therapist’s gaze worked its way from Chase’s eyes to her defiant jaw, her crossed arms, her akimbo stance. Then she nodded. “Okay.”

“Good. And then maybe you can think about doing the same with your sister. Neve respects you, and I’m nearly certain that she wants to get along with you. She doesn’t seem to know how to say that, though.”

Olivia had opened her mouth and then closed it, with the same expression the fish she’d caught had had—sorta stunned. “How would you know that?”

“I am very good at reading people, oh therapist of mine. That’s why I’m a good actress. I also just completed an entire chapter on family and forgiveness. So I’m hopped up on thinking about making amends and crap like that.”

Chase gave a salute and then went down the stairs to greet Zeke, who looked pretty adorable in his rugged mountain man khaki pants and buffalo plaid shirt that was open to a somewhat fitted T-shirt. He wore boots and may have trimmed his beard and sideburns. Chase had to admit that her “friend” was yummy. With a capital Y.

“I brought an extra rake because I wasn’t sure what Olivia’s grandfather might have in the outdoor shed. I see Olivia set some bags out here, but I have a better idea. I hitched my trailer up. Let’s pull it around, pile the leaves on a tarp in it, then drag that out to the compost pile.” Zeke gestured past the newly hung swing with its no-longer-rusted chain to the large wooden structure that she had to assume was a compost bin.

“That sounds easier.”

He started down the step, turning to wait for her. “I’ll unhitch the trailer. Meet you at the toolshed. Let’s see what we’re working with rake-wise.”

Chase walked around the side of the house, noting the carpet company van pulling into the driveway, and made her way through the brittle piles of leaves to the corrugated tin lean-to that sat next to the carport. A rusted lock sat crooked in the door latch, which meant anyone could have gotten inside and taken whatever they wanted. Chase doubted there would be anything left, but she was surprised to find the musty shed still filled with aged shovels, rakes, and clippers. Various paint cans and bins of screws and nails sat on sagging wooden shelves. In the back corner, a pair of glowing eyes caught hers.

“Jesus,” she said, stumbling back and colliding with Zeke.

He caught her waist and wrapped an arm around her. “Easy.”

She didn’t want to like the way he felt against her so much, but she did. Zeke didn’t have to grow on her. He was already there.

The cat leaped to the hard-packed dirt floor and issued a plaintive meow.

“The beast,” Chase said, watching the tomcat as it curled its still-matted tail around its feet.