“Plenty of room. Regroup later?” Without waiting for an answer, Riley strolled back into the house.

“It’s the first time I’ve had a team on this. It’s been interesting so far.” With that, Sawyer wandered off.

“Your sense about him?” Bran asked Sasha.

“Oh, Sawyer? Adores his grandfather—that’s a tight bond. Optimism. I get a strong sense of optimism, and a strong sense of purpose. I don’t like to pry,” she added, “but it seemed we should know. There’s something more to him—I don’t know what—but I didn’t get any . . . evil. I guess it’s not too strong a word, considering. I don’t get anything dark or evil. In fact, so much the opposite.”

“You trust him.”

“Don’t you?”

“I’m a bit slower with that than you might be, but he strikes me as true enough. And there he is, after all.” He tapped the sketch.” Well, I’m after a walk on the beach. Come with me.”

“I haven’t even unpacked.”

“What’s the hurry?” Smiling, Bran rose, offered a hand. “It’s just a walk down the cliff steps.”

She should unpack, organize her tools, but she found herself putting her hand in his. “All right. I want to find some good perspectives to sketch or paint anyway.”

“There, you’ve found your sensible reason for a walk.”

“I think for the rest of you, adventure and risk come naturally.”

“And you think you’re the quiet and settled sort.”

“I am the quiet and settled sort.”

“Not from where I’m standing. You’re the most courageous among us.”

Stunned, she gaped at him as they circled toward the stone wall. “Courageous? Me? Where do you get that?”

“The rest of us? We knew what we were after, and why, and why we came here. But you?” He walked to the pillars and gate, opened it. “You left your home, came all this way, not knowing. And when you saw Riley, you walked right up to her, you risked telling a stranger a story you didn’t understand yourself. That’s courage.”

She looked at him, the dark, compelling eyes, the way the wind blew his hair around his face. And the yearning came back into her, so strong she had to look away.

“I don’t feel brave.”

“You don’t recognize your own bravery. That’s all it is.”

He took her hand again, started down the rough steps.

“They’re really steep.” And high.

“But look where they’ll take us. I like a fine beach, though I often find myself more drawn to the forests and mountains. What are your mountains?”

“The Blue Ridge.”

“Lovely, are they?”

“Yes. Lovely, and peaceful. I can’t think the last time I was at the beach. Anywhere.”

“It can be lovely and peaceful as well. See there, that high point?”

Her stomach jittered as he gestured toward the promontory. “Yes.”

“And the bit of land there, the channel of water between? It’s called Canal d’Amour, that channel, and it’s said if you swim there, from one end to the other, you’ll meet the love of your life. That’s a pretty thought, isn’t it?”