Niri and Kayla were thrilled with the interest in the Mercantile, and the whole town seemed to be enjoying an uptick in tourism for the summer.

Life was good. Mostly.

Silas and Maggie spent every night wrapped up in each other, more often than not at her place. Without either of them acknowledging it, she’d made space in her closet for him, and he’d filled it.

The second bay of the garage now held tables of neatly organized tools for both their trades. On clear nights, they’d share beers on the terrace. If it rained, they read A. Campbell novels in companionable silence. He’d been able to talk her into an afternoon on the lake, and they’d even squeezed in another hike and picnic. Then there was the brunch with his family, which Dean attended as Michael’s official boyfriend.

His lips quirked as he remembered Mama B’s response to Michael’s announcement. “Honey, it’s about damn time.”

As the clock ticked down, days drawing nearer to August and the big reveal party, Silas felt the weight that pressed down on Maggie.

There was still much to be done. Small things. Hundreds of them. Not to mention the kitchen was still an unfinished nightmare of one step forward, two steps back. It was nearing completion through the sheer will of Jim and Maggie.

She was doing what she did best, obsessing over tasks and internalizing the stress of the looming deadline.

Silas hopped off the mower and admired the precisely cut lawn. Except for the fountain—with the new pump on back order—and the maintenance, Bitterroot’s work was done here at the Old Campbell Place. The acres on the bluff were now a showcase of natural beauty. Tamed and structured in some areas, like the rose garden and retaining wall. Wild and natural in others, like the grassy bluff trails and beds of wildflowers.

His crew had been divvied up and sent off to new, smaller job sites, where they created beautiful solutions for other homeowners. But they were all counting down to the day of the party, when they could show off their hard work to their families and let loose with friends.

A bloodcurdling scream came from the direction of the house and had Silas glancing up at the blue Idaho sky, asking for patience before heading inside. As suspected, it was Keaton, who had entered an unfortunate screaming phase.

“Perfectly normal part of development,” Blaire had insisted when Silas mentioned it. “He’s just exploring new ways of feeling important. It’ll pass.”

Silas had gifted Maggie a pair of noise-canceling headphones to get her through the phase.

He heard another sound. A distinct, horrified “What the fuck” coming from upstairs. He followed the commotion and found Maggie in a sitting room at the back of the house on the second floor, staring in silent rage at the gaping hole in the ceiling.