Chapter Forty-One
Sienna
The lodge kitchen had always been my safe haven, a place where the scent of brewing coffee and rising bread made everything else in life feel manageable. But the moment I stepped inside that morning, I knew something was off.
My entire family was waiting for me.
Mom at the stove, stirring something that smelled suspiciously like cinnamon oatmeal.
Violet and Fiona perched on opposite stools like synchronized vultures.
Dad reading the paper but absolutely not reading the paper because his eyes were following my every move.
And Beck leaning against the counter with both eyebrows raised in that older brother expression.
I paused in the doorway.
“Okay,” I said slowly, holding the basket like a shield. “Who died?”
Mom set down her wooden spoon. “Sweetheart, where’s Carson? His truck is gone.”
There it was.
Five innocent little words.
Five words that detonated the room.
Violet swiveled on her stool. “You let him leave already?”
“Did he say goodbye?” Fiona gasped.
“Was it dramatic?” Violet added.
“Did he kiss you?” Fiona chimed in.
Dad cleared his throat, trying to pretend he wasn’t listening. Beck didn’t bother pretending. He crossed his arms, stared straight at me, and grinned like a fox about to enjoy a henhouse buffet.
“Is he coming back?” Beck’s brows lifted.
I blinked at all of them. “Can I… take one step into the room before you interrogate me?”
“No,” Violet said. “Information first. Stepping second.”
Fiona leaned forward. “So where is he?”
I took a breath and set the basket on the island. “Home. His brother needed him. Marriage trouble.”
Instant collective gasp.
“Oh, no,” Mom murmured, brows knitting. “That poor family.”
“That poor Carson,” Violet corrected. “He must feel awful.”
“That poor Sienna,” Fiona added dramatically. “She finally finds a man who’s solid and sexy and can handle a backpack properly…”
“Fiona,” Dad warned without looking up.
“—and he leaves!” Fiona finished.
“He didn’t leave-leave,” I clarified. “He went to help his brother. He’ll be back in three days.”
“Three days?” Violet repeated, as if I’d said three decades.
“Yes. Just three days. Stop being dramatic.”
“You don’t get to call anyone dramatic,” Fiona said.
Beck snorted into his coffee.
I glared at him. “You’re enjoying this way too much.”
“Oh, absolutely,” Beck said. “This is fascinating. You’re acting like a normal human with feelings.”
“I always have feelings.”
“Sure,” Beck said, “but usually they involve trails, moose, and obscure snacks found only in Scandinavian hiking stores.”
“Not true.”
“It is extremely true.”
Mom gave me a sympathetic smile. “How are you feeling about him being gone, honey?”
I opened my mouth, ready with a breezy, confident answer. Then another answer tried to slip out. A truer one. One that felt too exposed.
I swallowed. “I’m… fine. Really. He needed to go. I get it.”
Violet exchanged a look with Fiona. “You’re fine?”
“Yes,” I said firmly.
“Fine-fine or Harper-fine?” Fiona asked.
Dad sighed behind his paper. “Girls, leave your sister alone.”
But even he was watching me from above the newsprint.
I shifted, crossing my arms. “It’s three days. We aren’t, like…we’re not… whatever you all think we are.”
“You’re something,” Mom said.
“Mom!”
“What?” she asked innocently. “I’m not blind.”
“She’s radiating happiness,” Violet whispered loudly.
“I’m not,” I snapped.
“You’re smitten,” Beck confirmed.
I threw my hands up. “Can we please talk about literally anything else? How about the trail conditions? Or the weather? Or—”
“Or your love life?” Fiona offered.
I grabbed a muffin from the basket and lobbed it at her head. She caught it midair and took a celebratory bite.
“Violence,” she declared with satisfaction. “She’s definitely in love.”
“I am not…”
Liam held up a hand. “Okay. Enough. Let the woman breathe.”
Finally. Someone with sense.
Liam sipped his coffee thoughtfully, giving me a long, quiet look that unnerved me far more than his sisters’ teasing.
“He’ll be back,” Beck said gently.
“I know that.”
“You believe it?”
“Yes.” The answer came easier than expected. Too easy.
Beck set his mug down. “You’re not already planning an Alaska escape trip for October. That’s… huge for you.”
My stomach dropped.
All teasing aside, Beck wasn’t joking now. I usually already had my exit plan by April.
I clenched the edge of the counter. “I’m not running away.”
“I know you’re not,” Beck said kindly. “I’m just saying, your instinct isn’t to run this time. And that means something.”
A strange chill passed through me.
Mom placed a warm hand on my arm. “Sweetheart, you don’t need to be afraid of caring about someone.”
“I’m not afraid.”
Every Harper in the room stared at me.
I sighed. “Okay, fine. I’m a little afraid.”
Fiona grinned like she’d been vindicated by the universe. “There it is.”
“But,” I added quickly, “I’m working on it.”
“And we’re proud of you,” Mom said.
“Extremely proud,” Violet added.
“Honestly shocked,” Beck said. “In a good way.”
I narrowed my eyes at him. “Your support is confusing.”
He shrugged. “I like the guy. He’s quiet. He listens. He doesn’t flinch when the zebra escapes.”
“That’s a low bar,” I muttered.
“Exactly. And if he said three days, he’ll be back in three days.” Liam pointed at me and wandered out of the lodge.
Something warm curled in my chest. He believed it. So did Mom. So did Violet and Fiona, judging by the way they’d softened into gentle, knowing smiles.
I let the warmth linger for a moment.
Then, because fate had impeccable comedic timing, the lodge front door slammed shut hard enough to rattle the kitchen windows.
We all jumped.
I turned toward the hallway just in time to hear heavy footsteps and a panicked voice calling out—
“Um, Sienna? You might want to come outside!”
It was Liam.
His tone was wrong. Urgent. Unsteady. Not the usual “I found a weird bug you need to come admire” tone.
I moved before thinking, nearly tripping over my own shoes as I hurried through the hall and out onto the front porch.
The sky was bright. Birds chirped. Everything looked normal.
Too normal.
Liam stood at the bottom of the steps, hands braced on his hips, eyes fixed on something I couldn’t yet see.
“What happened?” I called, descending the steps toward him. “What’s going on?”
He didn’t answer right away.
He just pointed.
I followed his gaze up the small hill toward the rescue animals.
And that’s when I saw it.
My pulse spiked. “Is that—?”
Mom and Dad appeared behind me; Violet and Fiona rushed onto the porch.
Beck cursed under his breath.
Louie the goat trotted proudly toward us.
Which… was not unusual.
But the thing dangling from his mouth definitely was.
“Is he—” Fiona squinted. “Is Louie carrying… underwear?”
I blinked. “Those are boxer briefs.”
Beck leaned forward. “Are those Carson’s boxer briefs?”
The room froze.
My soul left my body.
Louie bleated victoriously around the fabric and began trotting in circles like a prizefighter displaying his winnings.
“Sienna, are those his?”
I scowled and shook my head. “Why are you asking me?”
“Don’t pretend you haven’t seen his,” Violet teased.
I marched toward him, grabbing the waistband as he attempted to bolt away. “Drop it! Louie, DROP IT!”
He instead performed a full-circle victory spin, dragging me with him as we went toward the cabins.
“Oh, this is incredible, my mom said, chuckling.
Fiona wiped tears from her eyes as I ran after the goat. “Symbolism! The goat has stolen her man’s underwear! The prophecy is complete!”
“There is no prophecy!” I yelped.
Dad tried to be helpful. “Louie, buddy, son, pal, maybe don’t abduct people’s intimate apparel—?”
But the goat bleated like an operatic villain and took off toward Carson’s cabin.
I sprinted after him.
Behind me, I heard Fiona shout, “Don’t let him eat the symbolism!”
I ignored her as Louie made a sharp left toward the door, and I lunged, grabbed hold again, and finally—finally—wrestled the boxer briefs free.
“I got them!” I shouted triumphantly.
Then I looked down at what I was holding.
Black. Soft. Definitely Carson’s.
My face burned so hot I worried the fabric might combust.
Beck caught up behind me, panting. “You okay?”
“No,” I said honestly. “Not even close.”
He chuckled, leaning on his knees. “Well. If that’s not a metaphor for your emotional life, I don’t know what is.”
“Do you think Louie pulled them out of Carson’s laundry?” I asked, horrified.
“Probably.”
The door to Carson’s door was ajar, and Beck opened it, revealing Carson’s other duffel and some other personal items.
He really was coming back, and Louie wanted me to feel better.
“Now this means that Carson will come back and discover that his underwear is missing.” Beck shook his head
“And I doubt he’ll buy blaming the goat.”
Beck chuckled as I pressed both hands to my face and accidentally pressed Carson’s boxer briefs with them.
“Uh, don’t do that.” Beck smiled and gently pried the underwear out of my hands like it was evidence from a crime scene.
“Listen. He’ll laugh. Or he’ll ask about the underwear.
And you’ll blush. And you’ll tell him. And he’ll probably think it’s adorable.
And he’s been here long enough to know that nothing about us is normal. ”
I stared at him.
My brother gave me a sympathetic grin. “You’re worried.”
“I’m not worried.”
“You’re terrified,” he corrected softly. “He left town for a real reason. You’re not used to someone leaving and promising to come back. And now you found out he really is coming back.”
My throat tightened.
Because he was right.
I wasn’t used to this part—the in-between, the space where someone wasn’t physically near me but still held a place in my chest. The space where I cared more than I wanted to.
Beck nudged my shoulder. “And the fact you’re not already mapping out a six-month hike across Alaska? That’s growth.”
I snorted despite myself. “Barely.”
“No. It’s real.” He squeezed my arm. “You miss him. That’s okay.”
I swallowed. “Yeah. It’s… really weird actually.”
“Good weird.”
“I don’t know what to do with good weird.”
He smirked. “You live in it.”
I nodded slowly, letting that sink in.
Then, just as I started to calm, just as the embarrassment settled into something even remotely survivable—
My phone buzzed.
Mom’s name flashed on the screen, followed by a single text.
Sweetheart… you need to come back to the lodge right now.
There’s something on the front desk for you from Carson.
My heart dropped into my stomach.
Something from Carson.
Delivered after he left.
I didn’t know why, but something about those words made my chest go tight, and my pulse skip.
“What is it?” Beck asked.
I stared at the message, nerves coiling.
“I don’t know,” I whispered.
“But suddenly? I’m terrified to find out.”