Only when they neared the tree, his flashlight grazing over the ladder descending from above, did she open her mouth again. “Is this where . . . ?” She tipped her head, following the lead of his light, toward the structure jutting up in the air. “A . . . a treehouse?”

He might chuckle at her incredulity if he hadn’t already been scolded once tonight for laughing. “I’m glad you can tell what it is. There was a point where I’d seriously begun to question my carpentry skills. But it’s not a normal treehouse.”

She stepped back, slanting her neck, obviously trying to take in more of the structure. “I can see that. It’s ten times the size of any treehouse I’ve ever seen.”

“Just put the walls up last week.”

Her gaze was back on him. “Why?”

“Why did I give it walls?” He reached down to ruffle Captain’s fur.

“Why are you building it? There aren’t any kids around, and even if there were, this isn’t some small kids’ playhouse. Are you going to live out here or something?”

He allowed a snicker and, remarkably, she didn’t glare at him. “No, I’m not going to live in it. I’m not a hermit. Believe it or not, most people find me pretty personable. Even sociable. I think you might be the only person who’s ever called me grumpy.” Not true. Lil had called him a grump just the other day.

“To your face anyway.”

No more trying not to laugh. He let it belt out and moved to the ladder. Wary as he’d been of bringing her or anyone here, now that they’d reached the treehouse, he was suddenly eager to show it off. “Want to go up?”

“Is its base sturdier than the barn loft?”

Could she see the amusement in his frown? “I built it with my own two hands, Sydney.”

“For all I know, you built the barn, too.”

“Suit yourself.” He tucked his flashlight under one arm and climbed the ladder with practiced ease, emerging into the treehouse and heaving himself over the landing. The familiar, sweet smell of new lumber and sawdust clung to the air, and a flicker of satisfaction pulsed through him as he glanced down to see Sydney making her way up the ladder. “Careful climbing in those boots.”

He reached one hand down to help pull her up and in when she made it to the top, then turned to power on the battery-operated light he kept in here for nights like this.

Light flooded the spacious room—larger, even, than his bedroom back at the house. Sydney turned a slow circle, noticing frames for windows on each wall, surely. The high ceiling. Had she spotted the opening for a skylight overhead? On a clear night, the stars almost felt within reach.

She turned back to him, mouth gaping. “I just don’t quite get it.”

“It’s a luxury treehouse. Or will be. Once I get it painted and furnished and hooked up to electricity. I know it feels like we’re in the middle of nowhere, but there’s an electrical line not too far away.”