Maggie had made one. Had technically made it that day on the river, not that Silas had given her a minute or a reason to tell him. Despite the fact that her gut and her research had agreed, she still found herself wishing fervently for a sign. But plans were in motion with or without the universe’s input.

She sat at Ava’s desk and imagined that she could catch the scents of pipe tobacco as Aaron quietly flipped through manuscript pages while his wife’s pen wrote out new, beautiful stories. They’d known everything about each other and still wanted to share the same space. She’d loved him enough to let him into her sanctuary. He’d loved her enough to keep her secrets. Together, they’d built not only this house and a legend, but they’d also created a fascinating partnership.

Maggie peered out the octagonal window. Kinship was framed in it. Like a treasure map marking the spot. Only this town wasn’t sitting on top of a stash of gold. It was the gold. The Campbells had made their place here. They hadn’t waited for an invitation or tried to conform to an existing aesthetic. They built a wild and wonderful home and life on top of the bluff without apology or acquiescence. Ava wanted to write but had no luck being taken seriously as a woman author. So her husband gave her his name, his power.

He didn’t want her to change, to conform to his or anyone else’s standards. He supported her like a partner.

Maybe that was the sign she’d asked for. Though, in Maggie’s opinion, it could have been a bit more in her face. If the universe dealt only in subtleties, it was no wonder so many took wrong turns on their maps.

There were a few minutes before the chaos began, before the crews and their families arrived. Before he arrived. Just the thought of Silas had her nerves reappearing. This time she didn’t bother pushing them aside or burying them under a to-do list. She let them exist and realized maybe it wasn’t the worst thing in the world to feel.

There was one last thing she wanted to do before opening the front door. She gave the room a final look, making sure everything was in order, and then returned to her bedroom to retrieve her own personal good luck charm.

She could hear voices and vehicles outside by the time she ducked into the first-floor study. Dean was out there instructing everyone to not look at the “damn camera, people.”

“There,” she said, placing the photo of her mom grinning in the direction of Kinship’s lake on the mantel exactly above the gold coin, which had been temporarily tucked back into its hiding place. “Now you have a front-row seat to everything, Mom. I hope you’re proud. I really want you to be proud.”