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“Jessie called me, you know.”

Tate’s brow lifted, worry flickering in his eyes.

“A few weeks back.” Colin absently rubbed Hank’s head. “She kept hinting at trouble—asked what someone should do if they were scared. Claimed it was for a friend, but her voice gave her away.”

Tate sat quiet for a long beat. “Doesn’t sound like nothing.”

“That’s just it. My gut says her death wasn’t an accident. But I’m new at the firm. If I start rumors without proof, I could blow up lives—maybe my own.”

“If you ignore it, you’ll still carry it,” Tate said quietly.

Colin looked away. “You ever wish you could turn back the clock?”

Tate’s gaze lingered on the cabin. “Every day. But you’ve got to keep moving forward.”

“Didn’t mean to drag you into this.”

“You didn’t. Just tread carefully, Colin. Glen Falls doesn’t need more secrets—or more ghosts.”

Daisy Meets Snazzy, the Llama.

“Why don’t you let her stay with us?” Onna suggested. “It’d be our pleasure.”

Daisy’s eyes lit up, hands clasped under her chin. “Please, Mommy. Please?”

Nikki looked to Ashley, who nodded, the decision already made.

Think, Nic.

She wasn’t leaving Daisy with strangers. It was Ashley’s family—and her daughter would be safe and happy for half a day—with a llama—with lots of animals.

Mercy, how would she manage raising her tiny human to adulthood?

“You’ll listen to Ms. Isles?” Sane mother answered. Nikki released a steadying breath.

Daisy, the little stinker, drew a cross over her chest. Five years old and she’d already decoded her.

“Best behavior.” Daisy beamed.

Nikki swallowed a groan, knowing she’d lost this one.

“Bring her in old clothes and boots if you’ve got them,” Onna said.

“Mom probably has a dozen pairs in the basement.” Ashley laughed. “She keeps everything.”

Nikki massaged the paralyzing fears from her mind and focused on the conversation.

“I always say, animals are easier than clutter,” Onna said. “At least you know what they need.”

“I’m coming here tomorrow?” Daisy’s braids swung with the rapid turn of her head from Onna to Nikki.

“Best manners,” Nikki warned.

“Yay!” Daisy jumped up and down.

“Remember—” Nikki raised her voice over Daisy’s cheer. “Llamas need homes with a barn and pasture. They can’t live in townhouses. You can visit Snazzy, but we can’t take her home.”

Daisy’s smile disappeared. Although Nikki yearned to hold her, she had to be firm on this point. “But you can visit Snazzy tomorrow. And if it’s okay with Miss Onna, you can come over whenever we visit Gramma.”

Daisy’s brow furrowed. “But we don’t visit Gramma.”

Heat flooded Nikki’s cheeks. Just shoot me.

She pivoted to Ashley. Her friend gave her the oops look, which wasn’t helpful. This weekend was supposed to be about friends and Jessie—not her strained relationship with her mother.

“Yes, we do,” Nikki said, hating the fib. But it wasn’t like they never visited Mom. It was just that they’d been busy and so was her mother. “We’ll talk to Gramma and put a day on the calendar, okay?”

Daisy looked skeptical but thank goodness she remained quiet.

“Tomorrow is water bucket day,” Onna said. “You can scrub Snazzy’s bucket.”

Daisy’s grin returned and she raced for the corral.

“Where are you going?” Nikki called.

“To tell Snazzy!”

Nikki pushed to her feet.

“She’ll be okay,” Onna said, waving her hand. “I hope her attachment isn’t going to be a problem. Children love animals, but few form an instant bond like Daisy to Snazzy. It’s helpful for Snazzy and me. If an animal is socialized, it’s easier to find an adopter.”

Nikki sat back in her chair, the lemonade glass cool in her hand, eyes following Daisy and Snazzy across the grass. The patio buzzed with quiet voices and the distant sound of her daughter’s laughter, light as windchimes.

The Fabulous Four were down to three. Her life was like a car with four bald tires. Every time she fixed one another went flat. But she had friends here, history, and family—even though the bonds had suffered.

Daisy had found a moment of happiness. Maybe she could too.

Colin Meets Daisy

Ahead, a little girl appeared at the barn door, waving so hard her braids nearly took flight. “Mom! Look! Snazzy let me brush her neck and I gave her a treat and—”

Brown eyes wide with curiosity and the open friendliness only kids possessed took him in.

“Are you Mommy’s friend?”

Colin pulled at his shirt collar. Friend. Kids always called it straight.

Nikki kneeled beside her daughter. “This is Colin. He came with me to pick you up.”

Daisy processed the introduction for all of two seconds and then bounced on her toes. “Do you want to meet Snazzy? She likes people who aren’t afraid of mud.”

Colin glanced at Nikki, who shrugged, her lips quirking. “We’ve been warned.”

He grinned, dropping to Daisy’s level. “I’m not scared of a little mud. Especially if there’s a llama involved.”

Daisy beamed and tugged him over to the fence, where Snazzy, brown and impossibly fluffy, blinked at him with slow curiosity. Daisy offered the llama a handful of hay, her small hand reaching through the slats. Snazzy snuffled her palm, and Daisy’s giggle rang out—pure, full of promise.

The knot in his chest eased, slow and unexpected. What the heck? He was grinning like the verdict had gone his way before he’d even stood up. That hadn’t happened since he won the Kraemer case. Whatever he’d caught had missed Nikki. Worry still wrinkled her brow, but at least the edges had softened.

“Feel her fur.” Daisy piped up. “She’s soft. You can make sweaters from it. Do you knit?”

Daisy took his hand in her tiny one and rubbed it along Snazzy’s shoulder. “See how soft she is?”

When he glanced at Nikki, she was watching him. Her expression? Wistful? She was hard to read and he was good at reading people. Stil, he admired a person who didn’t rattle off every thought. Some lines should stay uncrossed.

He straightened. “Problem?”

“Just thinking.” She tucked a strand of hair behind her ear. “You’re a natural around kids. Where’d you get your practice?”

“Nieces. Paula’s got two girls. Lindsey is four going on twenty, and Elouise is two. They live over in Cape Girardeau.” He tapped his chest. “I’m Uncle Colin—the human jungle gym and snack supplier.”

Daisy turned to him, eyes wide. “Do they like llamas? Can they come here and play with me and Snazzy?”

Colin laughed, surprised at how much he liked the idea. “I bet they’d love that. Lindsey’s obsessed with animals—she tried to sneak a frog into Paula’s purse last month.”

“I like frogs. But llamas are better.” Daisy tugged at Nikki’s dress. “Can we have a playdate with Lindsey and Elouise? Please?”

Nikki shot Colin a look, caught somewhere between apologetic and amused. “We’ll see, Daze. That sounds like a big day.”

Colin snorted. Lindsey, Elouise, Daisy, and a llama? Sounded like chaos. And probably a blast. So what was with Nikki’s slight hesitation? Was she into a connection for her daughter, and herself. He rolled his shoulders, kind of liking the sound of a get-together. Unwise, but it could be fun. And dangerous. A smart man didn’t step without a net. But that didn’t mean he couldn’t schedule a visit with his nieces. He missed them.

“We’ll have to work on that.” He grinned. “I think we could all use a little more fun.”

“They’ll need to wear boots and work hard,” Daisy said, never taking a breath. “I helped scrub water buckets. Ms. Isles says I’m her favorite helper ever.”

Nikki ruffled her daughter’s hair. “I bet you are.”

Daisy turned to Colin, eyes bright. “Do you have any pets?”

“A cat named Snoop.” And for a second he wished he’d brought her along. She’d love to roam this place. “She’s not as big as Snazzy, but she’s pretty brave.”

Daisy’s face lit up with new possibilities. “Maybe Snazzy and Snoop could be friends! Or…maybe we could get a cat someday, Mommy.”

Nikki gave Colin a look—equal parts apology and humor. He just winked, the three of them caught in a quiet, gentle bubble of laughter and barnyard dust.

When it was finally time to leave, Daisy clung to Nikki’s side, still bubbling about llamas, cats, and all the things she wanted to show them next time. Colin held the truck door open, Daisy climbed in behind the driver’s seat and immediately launched into a minute-by-minute account of her afternoon.

He glanced at Nikki as she buckled Daisy in. “Does she ever run out of stories?”

Nikki shook her head, affection and exhaustion warring in her expression. “Never. Not once.”

From behind his seat, Daisy’s voice filled the cab—stories about Snazzy, about feeding chickens, about a frog she spotted by the water trough. Her chatter washed over him and the dark weight from the funeral receded, replaced by the bright, noisy, unstoppable tide of life.

He glanced at Nikki. She’d been watching him, her gaze softer now. Maybe she saw what he felt—a spark of hope, the faintest promise that things could still turn out okay, even after so much loss.

Daisy finished her story with a grand finale about saving a drowning bug. Colin applauded, genuinely delighted. “You had quite the adventure.”

Daisy beamed. “Can we come back soon, Mom? Please?”

“We’ll see, sweetheart.” Nikki’s voice faltered. “I have to check my work schedule and with Gramma.”

Colin breathed in the fields glowing in the late light. Considering the way the day started, he was feeling darned lucky. Daisy’s joy—relentless and contagious—had eased Jessie’s loss. A guy could get used to this. His life needed more noise, more hope, more reasons to look forward, instead of back.

Nikki had to be feeling it too. He glanced to the right, catching her profile in the golden light. An odd feeling settled in his chest—a slow, steady sense of home.

The Dilemma

Daisy considered this, gaze drifting from Snazzy to Sassafras. “I don’t want to move anymore. I want to stay here forever.” She traced circles in the straw with her toes. “I think Colin should stay with us, too.”

Colin’s arms stiffened and his breath caught—subtle, but noticeable against her back. Nikki slipped her hand over his, willing him to relax, to understand Daisy’s heart spoke faster than her head. “We’re pretty lucky he wants to spend time with us, aren’t we?”

Daisy looked up, her whole face bright. “He’s pretty good. But he can’t eat three doughnuts anymore because Snazzy and Sassafras will want one. Maybe you could buy the family pack”

Colin snorted, but it didn’t quite ring true.

Nikki forced a smile, trying to smooth the sudden tension. “I’ll talk to him about that.”

Colin’s arms loosened, just a little, but she could feel the distance.

Daisy grinned in that wide-open, hopeful way only children managed. “I think he should stay forever.”

Nikki brushed her thumb along Colin’s wrist, silently apologizing for her daughter’s wish. Still, a secret part of her wanted the same thing—a place where messy, ordinary happiness could last.

Nikki shook off the wistful dream, a luxury she couldn’t enjoy at present. “I don’t know about you two, but I’m ready for lunch. It’s been a very busy morning.”

“Awe, Mom,” Daisy whined. “I didn’t get to finish the story and I promised Snazzy.”

“Ten minutes.”

“Fifteen,” Daisy said. “I’m a slow reader and Sassafras has never heard the story.”

Nikki pointed at the donkey’s drooping head. “Sassafras is asleep.”

“Nope.” Daisy shook her head for emphasis. “He’s just resting his eyes.”

“Ten minutes, Daisy Monet. You can return after lunch while I study.”

Nikki chewed her lip on the slow walk to the house. Colin walked beside her, his hands in his pockets, features pensive. How did she fix this? Should she say something about Daisy’s comments? Ignore it? Hide in the closet and suck her kneecaps? Geez, why couldn’t they just have a regular relationship? Because she was a mother.

He stopped at the entrance to her back door. “I need to shove off and play a little catchup.” He shrugged staring at his boots instead of her. “I’ve gotten behind.”

“Sorry for that.” But she really wasn’t. She’d never be sorry for the time they’d spent working together.

Colin’s hand brushed hers, hesitant but sure. “Just remember, you did it, Nik. You gave her something real.”

When she brought her gaze to his, her heart expanded, too big for her chest. “I couldn’t have done this without you.”

He smiled, the kind that went all the way to his eyes. Then, slowly, leaned in. The world hushed, every heartbeat, every breath, every hope pressed inside her.

Daisy’s giggle floated on the breeze. Colin froze, but his lids remained hooded, his gaze bright, calculating. Nikki swallowed. Was that it? Daisy wasn’t a secret. He’d known all along, Nikki was a twofer.

But as quickly as he’d halted, he moved in. His firm lips covered hers, slow, and tender, as if he had all the time in the world. The porch faded, her worries faded, until it was just him, and her, and the steady warmth of his hand.

Colin pulled away, his palm still warm against hers. But the space between them suddenly felt wider. His gaze dropped, shadowed with regret.

“I’m sorry,” he said, voice low. “I didn’t mean to take over. With you. With Daisy. This… it’s not simple. Little kids—” He shook his head. “I don’t want to get this wrong. She’s too precious.”

For a heartbeat, Nikki’s chest tightened, old doubts flaring. So he was stepping back? That moment in the barn throbbed in her head. She’d known the risk of hoping, caring. Now, it was clear. She’d misread the whole thing. Maybe she’d wanted too much.

And if she had, she’d face it head on. Forcing her gaze upward, her disappointment faltered. He couldn’t quite meet her gaze and his hands—usually steady, fidgeted against his thighs. She replayed his words. Had his voice cracked on the word “precious?”

This wasn’t rejection—it was fear. A good man’s fear of hurting the people who mattered most.

Her heart softened and she squeezed his hand, gentle but sure. “You won’t get it wrong, Colin. Not when you care this much.”

He glanced up, vulnerability raw in his eyes. She offered a small, steady smile.

“We’re not asking you to be perfect. Just to be here.”

He nodded, managing a faint, grateful smile. “I missed that course in law school.”

“Children don’t come with instructions—not even for moms.”

His dark green gaze held hers. Instructions would be great—for men and women. Instead, she had to push forward, heart exposed, hoping the wind didn’t break it.

She willed him to kiss her goodbye. Instead, he gently released her fingertips and turned toward his vehicle.

For a moment, Nikki let herself believe what she’d just said—that showing up, choosing to try, was enough.

But as Colin pulled away and the quiet settled between them, doubt edged in behind the hope. She’d put her trust in men before—her father, who’d faded out of her life in slow, silent steps; Rhett, whose promises never survived reality. Even Vic, gone too soon to keep any word. They had all left, one way or another, and she’d learned how much it hurt to build hope on shifting ground.

That knowledge, however, didn’t stop her from tracking his car’s progress down the drive until it disappeared.

One difference circled her mind. Unlike Rhett, her dad, or Vic, Colin admitted his uncertainty. Honesty mattered. She understood the fear of making the wrong choice when everything—everyone—was at stake.

“Something else we have in common,” she murmured, the breeze catching her words. Maybe this time would be different. Maybe it wouldn’t.