Chapter 32
I leaned against the corral fence, watching the afternoon turn gold over the river. Everything was peaceful, the steady quiet I loved out here, and yet my pulse thumped loud enough to drown it all out.
The house was finished.
Over the last three days, everyone I knew had shown up to help, and Violet’s house was completely transformed from a few weeks ago. Part of me was excited to see Daisy’s reaction to it all, but the dread…
Fuck, the dread was heavy.
What if seeing it finished didn’t make Daisy happy?
What if every time she looked at it, it was another painful reminder that her sister was gone?
But this was a house, not an urn. And it was right there, at the end of my driveway.
There was no hiding this reminder. No avoiding it.
Uno stood beside me, his judgy one-eyed stare only emphasizing the feeling that this might have been a mistake. Just as I was about to go check on the girls, the screaming started—pure, delighted terror.
Junie had Daisy by the wrist and hauled her toward Violet’s house at top speed.
Daisy’s blonde hair was still in the same messy knot she’d worn for three days straight, strands escaping like pale ribbons.
But she was upright, wearing paint-splattered overalls and a cropped white tee.
And she was laughing in a way I hadn’t heard in weeks—breathless, startled, real.
“Run, Dizzy!”
Cluck Norris sprinted after them at the head of his posse, neck feathers flared like a red cape, eyes murderous.
The hens streamed behind him in a clucking avalanche, wings half-spread for balance.
Rowdy darted between the girls and the angry rooster like the tiny superhero he believed himself to be, yapping for all he was worth.
Piggie squealed and bolted after them, tiny black hooves skittering across the gravel.
I couldn’t contain the chuckle that rumbled out of me, even on the brink of a panic attack.
The girls hit the porch in a heap of limbs and laughter. Junie recovered first, scrambled up the steps, threw open the purple front door, and hauled Daisy inside before either of them had a chance to second-guess this decision.
I stayed put a minute longer, heart thumping harder than it had any right to.
The house looked nothing like the sagging, sad thing Daisy had walked into at the beginning of summer.
New cedar shakes glowed honey-warm in the late sun.
Pink petunias spilled from the window boxes I’d hung yesterday, their scent drifting down sweet and dizzying.
The new porch swing—wide enough for three, with thick cushions in Violet’s favorite floral—moved gently in the breeze like it had always belonged there.
From inside came Junie’s voice, bright and bossy and impossible to resist. “Close your eyes—no peeking—okay, okay, NOW!”
I pushed off the fence and walked down to join them. By the time I reached the porch, Junie had Daisy by both hands and was towing her through every room like an over-caffeinated tour guide.
“This is the living room,” Junie announced, spinning in place. “Do you love the pink? Emmy said it’s the exact coral Mom pinned on her Pinterest board. And the beams—we left all the old knots but stained them dark so it still feels like a real mountain house but also kind of like a fairy cottage.”
She dragged Daisy toward the kitchen, not waiting for a reply. I trailed behind, hands shoved deep in my pockets, trying to look casual while my pulse hammered in my chest.
Daisy stopped in the middle of the kitchen, turning in a small circle.
The farmhouse sink gleamed white against the butcher-block counters Luke had planed smooth.
Copper pots hung from a rack above the island like wind chimes.
Down the hall you could see the refurbished claw-foot tub that waited behind a barn-door slider we’d salvaged.
“Ty,” Daisy whispered, reaching out to touch the cool lip of the sink. I studied her face, trying to read her expression, but I didn’t trust myself to interpret it right now. Was the little frown that pulled at her lips shock, or was it panic?
“Come see the upstairs!” Junie called, racing toward the steps.
“There’s five bedrooms now—three upstairs and two downstairs—and two-and-a-half bathrooms, just like she wanted.
The big bathroom downstairs has penny tile that looks like fish scales and one upstairs has a shower so big, it’s like standing under a cloud. ”
Her feet stomped on the stairs. Daisy followed slower, fingertips trailing the banister I’d sanded until it felt like silk. I brought up the rear, every step creaking under my feet, bile rising in my throat the longer Daisy stayed silent.
Junie flung open doors like a game-show hostess.
“This one’s the Lupine Room—see the purple quilt?
The big one at the end is Poppy with lots of red.
It has its own balcony and looks straight at Castle Peak on clear days.
And this one is the Wild Rose Suite because roses climb right up the trellis outside the window. I like this one the best.”
They came back downstairs to look at the last bedroom—the one that was supposed to be Junie’s—that Stevie had turned into a kids’ bunk room. Toys sat in neat arrangements, everything rainbow bright, and it all felt like a hug.
Junie skipped the last doorway entirely. Didn’t slow, didn’t glance at the closed door at the end of the hall that no one had opened since we boxed up Violet’s things. Just breezed past it like it was painted with invisibility.
Daisy stopped in the middle of the hallway, her eyes wide and shining.
“You did all this?” she asked, voice small and cracked right down the middle.
“I had help,” I managed. I ruffled Junie’s hair and she beamed up at me. “Shannon was the one in charge. Luke knows every tradesman in the Valley. Emmy and Stevie handled decor. The boys and I just showed up and tried not to get in the way.”
When she didn’t say anything, I asked, “Did I overstep?”
Daisy laughed once—wet and startled—and pressed her fingers under her eyes like she could hold the tears back by force. “No. Not at all.” She looked around again, slower this time. “Thank you, Ty. Thank you for this. Violet would have loved it.”
Junie bounced over and grabbed Daisy’s hand again.
“Now we can rent the rooms like Mom wanted! Since we’re going to live at Ty’s forever, there’s even more room, and maybe we can make enough to buy mini cows.
I want fluffy ones with bangs, like those videos.
And I read they don’t like to be alone, so we’ll need at least two. ”
My stomach dropped straight through the refinished floorboards and kept falling. Junie had just put bright, confident words to the conversation Daisy and I hadn’t touched yet.
Daisy’s smile flickered. She crouched, tucked a curl behind Junie’s ear with trembling fingers. “You’re full of ideas, aren’t you, cutie?”
That was when the white county SUV crunched up the drive, tires spitting gravel.
Sandra stepped out in her sensible flats, clipboard in hand, stopped on the path and gasped when she saw the house.
She did the full walk-through, checking off every needed improvement and asking Junie if she was excited for third grade.
Junie answered with clipped words, but she didn’t hide behind me this time.
After Daisy turned off all the lights inside, Sandra pulled us onto the porch, leaving the door open as Junie ran back in to grab one more cookie from the new jar in the kitchen.
“Everything is beautiful,” she said. “Junie’s thriving.
I spoke with the school district and they’re more than prepared to take Junie back this fall, ready for any impending needs should they arise for counseling.
” She flipped a page. “I also spoke with Tate at the rink and she’s thrilled with your progress so far, so you’ve got stable employment.
Really, Daisy, I’m very impressed with the progress you’ve made this summer. ”
“Thank you,” Daisy said. “So what happens next?”
“I wish every case was this simple,” Sandra smiled.
“With the house finished, you’ve now met every requirement.
The judge has already signed off that he’s ready to give you full physical and legal custody, Daisy, keeping Juniper with family as we always wanted.
You can decide what role Ty keeps in her life, but this case is closed. Congratulations.”
I stared at the floor, heart hammering in my chest, hearing the words I’d dreaded all summer. No matter how much I loved Junie, no matter what Violet had put in her will, she wasn’t mine.
Not anymore.
Unaware she’d just wrecked my world, Sandra turned the page again. “And Daisy, once the order’s signed, you’re free to relocate to Chicago. Just file interstate transfer paperwork and notify the court with the new address for the yearly wellness checks. Routine stuff.”
Chicago.
The word hit me like a hip check I never saw coming—fast, low, and right to the ribs. All the air left my lungs in one silent whoosh.
Daisy nodded, small and careful, arms wrapped tight around her middle.
“And Ty,” Sandra said, her small hand on my shoulder. “Well done. This is always the hardest part, letting your foster kids go. But I think we both can feel good about the fact that this little girl will live a happy life with a loving family, hm?”
I nodded, because that’s what she expected, even though each word out of her mouth hit like a blow.
Sandra left. The dust from her tires settled slow, like it didn’t belong here anymore.
“Chicago?” I asked. My voice sounded far away, my head was spinning so fast. “You’re still thinking about going back?”
Daisy leaned against the new siding and stared out at the river catching the last of the sun. “I haven’t decided,” she said quietly.
I haven’t decided.
Not No.
Not We’re staying.
Not even I love you more than it hurts to stay here.
Just I haven’t decided.
I swallowed hard, searching for anything that wouldn’t sound like begging. My mouth opened and closed twice.
Before I could find words, a small voice floated through the font door, tiny and trembling.
“We’re moving to Chicago?”
We both spun.
Junie stood halfway out the door, clutching the wall with one hand and her forgotten cookie with the other. Her eyes were huge behind the lenses, flicking from Daisy to me and back again, filling fast.
Daisy took a half-step forward, hands out. “Cutie—”
“I don’t want to go,” Junie continued, voice cracking on every word. She looked straight at me, eyes glassy. “Then I’ll lose my dad too.”
The porch went so quiet I could hear the wildflowers closing for the night, petals folding like secrets. I could hear the river a quarter-mile away, steady and ancient. I could hear my own heart trying to punch its way out of my chest and run straight to that little girl I loved so damn much.
Junie had heard everything.
And she didn’t want to leave.