The river meandered around another bend, and she spotted a cozy timber cabin on an emerald rise of grass. Near the shore, there was a couple sharing a lazy moment in a hammock, a wine bottle open next to them.

The man raised his glass to her, and Maggie held her Pepsi aloft.

They looked relaxed. Happy. Completely content to be doing nothing. When would she feel like she’d earned the pause? How many houses would it take? Subscribers? Dollars in the bank?

Would her very own show on a network make her happy? It was bigger than she’d ever dreamed. She’d read the basics of the offer about a dozen times so far. There was so much to it that it took her breath away. She and Dean hadn’t had a real discussion about it. Not since he’d been spending most of his free time with Michael.

Maybe it was smarter to stay the course. Decline the offer—politely, of course—and find her next property.

She glared down at the soda—because she was allowed to call it a soda in her own damn head—and wondered if Silas had managed to spike it with some of his philosophical leanings. She liked working hard. Liked accomplishing. Liked setting goals and marching after them single-mindedly.

But does it make me happy? asked a tiny voice that should have been easy to ignore.

She thought about happy and reached back into her memory banks.

The hot springs with Silas came to mind. That ticklish drop when she jumped, free-falling into the alpine lake below. The heady combination of contentment, anticipation, excitement when he wrapped his arms around her. The way he managed to surprise her again and again in small, thoughtful ways.

Cody’s graduation. The pride when he held up his diploma, the shock and joy when he realized the car was for him.

Watching Dean and Michael explore something so new and so tender.

Margaritas and shopping with Dayana, Niri, and Kayla.

She went back further.

Her father. Standing up the bookcase they’d built together. His half-smile. His hand on her shoulder. “This is really great work, Maggie,” he’d said. “You have a lot of talent, but it’s the work ethic that’s most important.”

She went back again. Further still. And remembered.

This river. Her mother’s laugh coming from behind her as they wrestled against the current in a tandem kayak. The sun hot on her face and the cool spray of the water as it spilled over the rocks in front of them. Maggie had been temporarily terrified as the current careened them toward the shelf of rocks.

“Mom!”

“Just hang on, Mags! Don’t try to control it. This is where it gets fun!” her mom had called back.