Chapter Three
Liam
I leaned against the kitchen counter, staring into the half-empty bottle of hard apple cider in my hand. The silence of my house felt deafening compared to the lively chaos of Evie’s place.
Her laugh.
Hayden’s giggles.
Even that goofy dog’s antics had filled every inch of the house.
Now, with just me here at my place, it suddenly felt… empty.
I took another swig of the cider, letting the cool liquid slide down my throat as I tried to piece together what had just happened.
She’d let me come over for dinner—voluntarily.
That was something, right?
And she’d smiled, laughed, even teased me a bit.
Or was I imagining it?
She could have just been being polite.
I ran a hand through my hair and let out a frustrated sigh.
Evie was hard to read.
I’ve been trying to get to know her for months, offering to help when I could and texting her here and there.
She’d been polite but distant.
I’d pretty much figured she wasn’t interested, that maybe she wasn’t ready for anything beyond raising Hayden and wrangling her clients with four hooves.
Watching Evie work as a farrier was something else. She moved with a quiet confidence that left me speechless every time she came to the lodge. There was nothing flashy about what she did, no showy movements or over-the-top gestures. It was just her, completely in tune with the horses, like they spoke a language only she understood.
Evie had this way of running her hands down a horse’s leg, her touch firm but gentle that made even the most restless animals settle.
And watching Evie was always calming. It wasn’t magic, but it might as well have been. The skittish gelding I’d seen buck just about everyone off his back last summer now stood perfectly still under her care, his ears swiveling toward her voice like she’d cast some spell.
And the rescue farm we ran at Honey Leaf Lodge brought in all kinds of animals that needed love, kindness, and empathy.
Evie’s focus was something to behold: the way she shaped a shoe with precision, her brow furrowed slightly, the smallest smile tugging at her lips when she got it just right.
She cared—really cared—about these horses, and it showed in every movement, every decision she made.
And me? I couldn’t look away.
Whenever I needed to call her for an appointment, it was like Christmas.
I always tried to keep it casual when I dropped by our barn, offering to help hold a lead rope or fetch her tools. But truth be told, I just wanted to be around her. Something about how she carried herself drew me in.
She wasn’t just good at what she did—she was incredible. And every time I watched her, I fell a little harder.
But she was different. She had her own set of rules. When she finally accepted one of my invites out to dinner, she made me bring my sister. And that was fine since my sister moved to a different booth later that evening with a guy she hated to like or liked to hate.
I even managed to meet Evie for coffee after one of her appointments. I felt like I had won the jackpot when she finally let me buy her a latte. All she did was touch my hand as she took it from me, and I was a goner for the rest of the day.
Yet, that gave me all the encouragement I needed.
Until she had an excuse every time I asked her out since.
I wasn’t sure if she’d ever let me in. She kept people at arm’s length, and I got it—she’d been through a lot.
Not that I knew about any of it.
We’d never gotten that far.
But seeing her like this tonight, completely in her element, made me hope she might give me a chance someday.
Just the thought of her being so tiny and able to run her business as a farrier turned me on like nothing I’d ever experienced. Judging by how well she handled horses, she could take down most men twice her size.
But tonight felt different. It was the way her eyes lingered on me a second longer than usual, the way she laughed at my jokes, the way she seemed to lean into the moment, just enough to give me hope.
Before I could overanalyze it further, the front door swung open, and Fifi walked in, balancing a large tote bag on one arm and a half-empty iced coffee in her other hand. Her bright scarf was askew, and her hair, as always, looked like the wind had styled it. My sister had a knack for the dramatic.
“Seriously, you need to start locking your door,” she announced, dropping the bag onto the couch. “One of these days, you’re going to walk in here and find me eating all your snacks.”
I gave her a look. “You already do that.”
“True,” she said, grinning as she went to the kitchen. She eyed the hard cider in my hand. “Uh-oh. What’s the occasion? You look like someone stole your favorite fishing rod.”
“Not a big deal,” I said, shrugging as I set the bottle down.
Fifi wasn’t buying it. She perched on one of the barstools, resting her chin in her hand.
“Come on, Liam. You’ve got that look. What happened?”
I hesitated, then sighed. “I had dinner at Evie’s tonight.”
Her eyes lit up, and she nearly dropped the iced coffee she put to her lips.
“You went to Evie’s? As in dinner with the hot single mom, you’ve been mooning over for months?”
“I don’t moon,” I said defensively.
Fifi snorted. “Right. And I’m not the queen of dramatic entrances.”
“You’re not,” I muttered, earning a glare.
“Focus, Liam,” she said, leaning forward eagerly. “Tell me everything. Was it romantic? Did you kiss? Did she wear an apron and bake cookies?”
I gave her a flat look. “It wasn’t like that.”
“Then what was it like?”
I sighed again, running a hand through my hair.
“It was… nice. We had bratwursts. Her kid insisted I come over after we ran into each other at urgent care.”
Fifi raised an eyebrow. “Urgent care?”
“I had a blender incident,” I said dryly, holding up my bandaged hand.
Fifi burst out laughing.
“Glad I can entertain you,” I muttered, though a small smile tugged at my lips. “I fully blame Vi’s recipe.”
“Okay, okay,” she said, waving her hand. “Back to Evie. Was there flirting? Did she seem into it?”
I hesitated, replaying the way she’d smiled at me, the way her eyes softened when she talked about Hayden, and the way her laughter seemed lighter than usual.
“Maybe? I don’t know. It felt… different. Like she wasn’t just being polite. But I could be reading too much into it.”
“Liam,” Fifi said, her tone exasperated. “You’re overthinking this. Evie let you into her home, fed you bratwursts, and didn’t kick you out after dessert. That’s basically a love confession in single-mom language.”
I chuckled, shaking my head. “You’re ridiculous.”
“And you’re hopeless,” she shot back, grinning. “But seriously, if you think there’s a chance she’s interested, you need to keep showing up. She’s probably just scared.”
“Scared of what?” I asked, frowning.
“Scared of letting someone in. Of risking her heart again. From what you’ve told me, Evie’s been through a lot. She won’t throw herself at you just because you have a nice smile and a way with urgent care visits.”
I gave her a look. “Thanks for the vote of confidence.”
“I’m just saying you need to be patient. Show her you’re serious, that you won’t run at the first sign of chaos.” She paused, then added with a smirk, “Though, let’s be honest, you kind of thrive on chaos.”
“Funny,” I said, rolling my eyes. “But you’re probably right.”
“I’m definitely right,” she said, hopping off the stool. “Now, if you’ll excuse me, I’m going to raid your snack stash and leave you to your brooding.”
“I’m not brooding,” I called after her.
“Sure, you’re not,” she said over her shoulder. Her laughter echoed down the hall.
I sat there for a while, staring at the now-empty bottle on the coffee table.
Maybe Fifi was right. Maybe Evie was starting to let me in. And if that were the case, I wouldn’t mess it up.
Hope was dangerous but for Evie? It felt like a risk worth taking.
I reached for my phone and texted Evie, hoping to capture the energy from tonight so she wouldn’t ghost me by tomorrow morning.
I’d learned not to overthink my words with her—Evie was sharp and quick, and she had a knack for cutting through the fluff. So, I kept it light and typed my message.
So, does Sir Lancelot snore louder than Hayden, or is it a toss-up?
The three dots appeared almost instantly.
She was reading it.
And responding.
My fingers hovered over the screen, nervous but excited. After what felt like forever, her reply popped up.
LOL, toss-up. But Lance has the edge when he dreams about chasing squirrels.
A grin tugged at my lips. Classic Evie. Her humor was always there, just sharp enough to make me want to keep going, and I did.
Sounds intense. Should we consider doggy therapy?
She wrote back.
Only if you’re paying. Therapy’s expensive. I’ve tried it myself.
I chuckled and texted her.
So have I, but I’m not sure it worked on me.
She wrote me again, which felt like huge progress.
You’re the most together guy I’ve ever met. It obviously did some good.
I laughed, reveling in the compliment I didn’t expect from Evie. But I wasn’t done.
How about we do breakfast one day this week?
I hit send before I could think better of it, then stared at the screen, my heart racing. Was I pushing too hard? Maybe I should’ve waited. But then her typing bubble popped up again.
After what felt like hours, she wrote back.
Breakfast? Bold move, Harper.
What can I say? I’m a bold guy, hoping I don’t run out of luck.
As she wrote, the little bubbles appeared again, and I realized she might actually like me.
Or a persistent one. Same difference.
I grinned and typed.
Can’t argue with that. I’ve been told persistence is an admirable quality.
She wrote back within seconds.
By whom? Your mom?
I cracked up in disbelief that she just used a mom joke.
Okay, ouch. That’s a point for you.
I leaned back against the couch, grinning like an idiot.
She hadn’t said yes yet, but she was still texting. That was something, right? I took a sip of my empty bottle and laughed at myself. I had it bad.
So, I tried again.
Let me guess—you’re busy wrangling horses every morning and don’t have time for pancakes?
She texted me a response that made me pause.
Pretty much. And dogs. And a seven-year-old who thinks carrots go in noses.
But I didn’t want her to get out of this date for some reason. I felt like if I lost her this time, I’d be all out of chances.
Impressive multitasking, but even superheroes need a break.
She sent a smile emoji and another text.
Now I’m a superhero?
You’re the closest thing Buttercup Lake has to one.
The typing bubble appeared, then disappeared, and I stared at the screen, willing her to respond.
Come on, Evie. Just say yes.
Three little letters.
Maybe I went too hard. The superhero thing was probably too much.
But then, finally, her reply came through.
Fine. But no blender stories at breakfast.
My heart soared, and I couldn’t hide the grin.
She’d said yes.
I wrote back my promise as we finalized the time.
The one thing I knew about Evie was that punctuality was everything to her.
I stared at the screen long after her last message, replaying the exchange in my mind. She could’ve brushed me off, made an excuse, or gone radio silent like before.
But she didn’t. She’d said yes, and that felt monumental.
I couldn’t help but laugh at myself, shaking my head.
All this over a breakfast date? But it wasn’t just breakfast—it was a chance to keep the door open, to show her I wasn’t going anywhere. Evie was guarded, and I respected that. She’d been through a lot and deserved someone who wouldn’t let her down.
Still, part of me worried.
What if I screwed this up? What if I tried too hard or not hard enough? The thing about Evie was that she made me want to be better—to prove I was worth her time and her trust.
For now, though, I’d savor this small victory.
She’d said yes, and that was enough to keep me floating for the rest of the night.
Just as I was basking in my small victory, the door swung open again.
“Liam!” Fifi’s voice echoed through the house like a freight train. “I decided I wasn’t done with you.”
I glanced up to see her standing in the doorway. Her tote bag was now stuffed to the brim with my food. A bag of pretzels poked out the top alongside what looked suspiciously like my favorite bag of trail mix.
“Seriously?” I said, raising an eyebrow. “Did you raid the whole pantry?”
Fifi grinned, not the least bit ashamed.
“What can I say? You’ve got good taste in snacks. Besides, you can’t trust a woman to eat just one pretzel.”
“You mean one bag.”
“Details.” She waved me off, dropping the bag onto the floor. “Now, why do you look so dopey? Did you win the lottery or something?”
“Noneya.”
“Noneya, what?” Fifi narrowed her eyes, crossing her arms as she studied me.
“Noneya business.”
“Oh no. You’ve got that look. The ‘I just texted a girl, and she didn’t reject me’ look. Spill.”
I smirked, shaking my head. “You’re unbelievable.”
“And yet, here I am.” She gestured dramatically. “Your loving, supportive sister who just wants to know if her clueless brother has finally made progress with the woman he’s been pining over.”
“Okay, fine. I texted Evie. And…she agreed to breakfast.”
Fifi gasped, clutching her chest like I’d just told her I’d won a gold medal.
“Breakfast? The most sacred of all meals? I’m shocked. Truly shocked.”
“Don’t be dramatic.”
“Oh, I’m just getting started,” she said, grinning. “Breakfast is basically a promise ring for single parents. Do you realize what this means?”
“Fifi, it’s pancakes, not a marriage proposal,” I said, though I couldn’t help but laugh.
She ignored me. “Yet,” she quipped, wagging a finger at me.
“And this tells me you must stay far away from her, or you’ll scare her off.”
“Give it time. Next thing you know, Hayden’s calling you Dad, and you’re stuck wrangling dogs and horses for the rest of your life.”
“Not the worst future,” I muttered, but she caught it. “That tends to be my days at the lodge anyhow.”
Fifi’s grin softened into something more genuine. “You really like her, huh?”
I nodded, not trusting myself to say more.
It wasn’t just that I liked Evie—I respected her.
Admired her. She was strong and funny and completely herself, which made it impossible not to be drawn to her.
“Well,” Fifi said, slinging her tote back over her shoulder, “I’m proud of you, big bro. Just don’t mess it up, okay? You’ve got a good thing going.”
“Thanks for the vote of confidence,” I said dryly.
“Anytime.” She started toward the door, then paused, throwing me a sly look. “Oh, and if you do end up proposing over pancakes, I demand to be there.”
“Out,” I said, pointing toward the door as she laughed.
“Love you too!” she called, shutting the door behind her.
I stood there for a moment, shaking my head. Fifi could drive me nuts, but she wasn’t wrong.
This breakfast with Evie? It felt like the start of something real. And I wasn’t going to let it slip away.