“You really think so? I haven’t exactly done a stellar job making a success of the farm.”

Lilian rose. “Don’t say that. Broken equipment and financial struggles? Farmers from one coast to another would tell you that’s completely normal. But you’re not in it alone—not the farm, not wherever we go from here.”

“Right.” Indi leaned in to hug him. “Come to the store. We can pick out some pieces for the treehouse.”

“And stop spending your savings on farm repairs.” Lilian’s hug was next. “I may not be a big-city lawyer, but I make a good enough salary I can chip in there.”

“Lil, no—”

“Argue with me and I’ll tell Indi what else has been going on out at the treehouse.”

“What else has been going on?”

Great, from the overly innocent look on Indi’s face now and the complete lack of surprise in her question, obviously Lilian had already been talking. Just how much had she said? Or, well, seen? “I don’t know what you think you saw, Lil—”

“Didn’t have to see anything other than the look on your face when you came down those treehouse steps.”

He ruffled her hair. “You and Wilder are two peas in a pod, you know that?”

An instant scowl took over her face. “How could you ever say something so cruel? After I just offered to throw money at you . . . to compare me to Wilder? I take back every nice thing I just said about you.”

“Love you, too, sis.” He draped one arm around her and the other around Indi. Sydney had been right about telling these two. She’d been right all along. “Now, how do I tell Maggie?”

Half an hour had passed and Sydney still hadn’t figured out what Micah was doing here.

Crisp sea air folded in and around her as they strolled across patchy grass and sand, the whoosh of the waves, capped with white and fierce against the rocks on this windy day, calming her just enough to keep her from bulleting questions.

Why didn’t you text or call? How long are you planning to stay, or don’t you have a plan? How did you afford a plane ticket and car rental?

And the question looming above them all: Why was he here? There had to be a reason. There was always a reason.

Not that she wasn’t happy to see him. Nineteen years ago, on the day he walked into the Jacobsens’ house, that limp, little bear clutched in his fist, he’d claimed a permanent piece of her heart. She’d taken him under her wing and he’d been there ever since.

“I know it’s killing you not to ask, Syd.” He combed his fingers through his hair. The same stylish camo jacket he’d been wearing that day at the bakery now flapped in the wind around him. Had that really been not even two weeks ago?

“Well, I know you didn’t come here just to bring me that caramel roll from Nikola.” Though she’d enjoyed every bit of the thing after they’d hugged and started walking. It was just like Micah to bring a roll from the bakery, cart it in a to-go container through two flights, a layover, and a drive in a rental car.