The apples of his cheeks pinkened. “You like it?”

“Like it?” She spluttered, still agog. “I adore everything about it. You even made me a bench.”

He leaned and pointed around the trunk. “I built a second bench on the other side.”

“Two benches.” With a contented sigh, she collapsed next to him. His work pants were scratchy against her bare knee, but she didn’t mind. “Thank you, thank you, thank you.”

“It was my pleasure.” He brushed his lips against hers and smiled.

She slipped an arm through his and dropped her head onto his shoulder. Resting atop his thigh, their forearms pressed together, and she interlaced her fingers with his, one by one.

A catbird cried in a dogwood tree. Clouds gathered in the southwest, but they were still far away. Quiet minutes passed, and her excitement at seeing the completed gazebo ebbed, leaving behind a growing sense of unease. She lifted her head and with one finger, turned his face to hers.

He raised an eyebrow.

Questions and promises danced on the tip of her tongue. Forbidden thoughts and dreams she had no right to dream tapped her skull from inside. She lifted one shoulder and let it fall. “The gazebo is finished.”

“It is.” He dropped a kiss on the tip of her nose.

Once she returned from Ohio, Nora would ensure Tessa never set foot on the farm again. She and Rebecca needed Jonas. Given their history, she would fight tooth and nail to protect her family. Who could blame her? Tessa and Jonas would return to their separate worlds, and somehow life would go on. How could she let him go?

She caught his gaze. “What happens now?” Her voice wobbled. The catbird mewed again. Or was it a mockingbird?

He tightened his grip. “I don’t know.”

Those three syllables tore from his body on a breath forced from somewhere deep. He was always so steady, but in a heartbeat all composure vanished. He sounded like a man who was trapped.

Sudden as a sea squall, he wrapped his arms around her and gathered her close.

Her eyes flew wide, and her breath hitched in her chest. She lifted her chin, and he kissed her like she was his only hope for escape. This kiss was different, full of urgency and searing with need. Almost, she thought somewhere in the dazed recesses of her brain, like a last kiss.

She clung until they finally parted, breathless and rumpled. She nuzzled his neck and closed her eyes. His skin was slick and salty and smelled of sawdust. “Please don’t go away.”

He ran his knuckles down her cheek. “To everything there is a season, Tessa Rose.”

His voice was tinged with regret. Her throat tightened. Was this the season for good-byes? She took a breath to ask but didn’t have the chance.

“Well, isn’t this a cozy sight.”