“You’re saying she built this entire website in a day?” Lilian’s eyes reflected the glare of the computer screen as she fiddled with the mouse.

He’d pulled the pair of them away from their outdoor work when Maggie had disappeared into the kitchen, saying something about throwing a batch of cookies in the oven to be ready whenever Sydney and the brother—Micah—returned to the house. The time had felt right to finally tell them about his hopes for shoring up the farm financially, especially considering Lilian had already seen the treehouse last night.

But he hadn’t told her the full scope of his plan then. He’d been too flustered, brain entirely muddled after finally having given his heart what it wanted.

Was it really “finally” though? Sydney had said it herself—they’d only known each other a week and a half. How could that possibly be enough time to . . . to feel the things he’d felt last night when he’d fallen into bed? And this morning when he’d woken up? And every second since?

“Not even a day,” he replied at last. “She got it done in an afternoon while Maggie napped.”

Indi tugged off the earmuffs that’d been around her neck since they came inside. “Wow, this puts the Bits & Pieces site to shame. Wonder what she’d charge me for a redesign.”

Probably nothing, he guessed. But she should charge something. On a whim, the other day he’d looked up the website she’d built for that bakery. Every bit as good as this one. Not that he was any real judge of graphic design or webwork, but even his layman’s eyes knew she had talent.

She’d used the same creative skillset to help Lilian set up their market booth last weekend, and he’d begun noticing little touches of hers around the house, too. She’d reorganized the dishes in the hutch so it no longer looked crowded and had completely rearranged all the books on the shelves in the living room, grouping them by colors—some upright, some stacked—so they became as much a part of the décor as Maggie’s throw pillows. How Lilian hadn’t yet gone crazy from the idea of them no longer being in alphabetical order, he didn’t know.

Then again, maybe she’d taken to Sydney’s presence here every bit as much as he had.

Well, probably not as much.

And it hit him then that it wasn’t just that kiss in the treehouse or those too-brief minutes this morning out back or even that almost-kiss the other day in the pantry that had him feeling as if Sydney didn’t just belong here with their family, but here with him.

It was how gifted and smart and funny she was. How quickly she’d thrown herself into life on the farm, helping Maggie around the house, joining them at the Autumn Market and church and even one of those silly Heritage Society meetings. And, yes, of course, it was her gorgeous hair and gorgeous smile and gorgeous everything.