“Well, if you have any issues starting the fire, just know that I know how to use kindling,” she said, rubbing her upper arms. Now that the sun had slid farther down, the September air had grown cool.

“You’re really getting this adulting thing down,” he said with a wink. “I’ll be back soon.”

She walked toward the cabin as he jogged to his truck, mulling over his words. Adulting. Such a strange concept, but Chase was stunned at how much she had changed over the last week and a half. For one thing, she’d stopped resenting Olivia and had started being more open to talking about her past with her. They’d discussed her father, the devastation of the rape, the ways she could deal with the hurt and guilt. Then there were the practical things that didn’t involve her emotions—the simple tasks of learning about credit and how it works, looking at her past taxes (something Lorna had been opposed to sharing but Olivia had managed to get from the accountant because they were Chase’s tax forms), and making a budget had opened her eyes to how much money she wasted. Her mother had given her a sizable allowance that she usually depleted before midmonth. Chase hadn’t known about some of the properties she owned, the amount in her rapidly dwindling savings, or that she had a retirement plan. Her mother had done everything without Chase’s knowledge, and though Lorna had paid herself, her mother had been more than fair with her.

Olivia had made Chase write a will, keep a journal, and read a few self-help books, but none of those were better than the feeling of accomplishment Chase had when mastering things she’d avoided for too long.

“The yard looks great,” Olivia said from the new rocking chair she’d ordered on Amazon. Olivia had put it together by herself, something Chase had marveled at. She’d never thought about putting furniture together, and now understood the difference between a Phillips- and a flat-head screwdriver.

“Thanks. Zeke’s going back to his house to get stuff for s’mores. We thought instead of going to scout fishing spots, we’d build a fire in that firepit out back. I mean, if that’s okay with you?”

Olivia held a book in her lap, but she hadn’t been reading it. Instead she’d been engrossed in watching the trees drop leaves on the lawn Chase had just raked. Which was totally annoying, but Zeke had pointed out that such was life. You washed dishes only to fill the sink with more. You hung up clothes that would eventually grace the bedroom floor. You fell in love only to mourn a broken heart. That was the vicious, joyful circle of life. Zeke seemed to find beauty in all the processes.

“It’s okay with me.”