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I let her sleep while I showered and dressed, then tossed her sweater onto the bed. “I’m going to get the coffee going.”

That got her moving.

By the time I had the first pot going, Caroline came down the hall in last night’s clothes, her hair twisted back and her face scrubbed free of makeup. She found her phone on the kitchen counter and checked the screen while I pulled eggs from the refrigerator.

“You must have at least fifty new messages,” I said.

She looked up. “What makes you say that?”

“Your phone’s been buzzing for the past twenty minutes.”

Her face tightened as she scrolled.

“Is there a problem?”

“No. Just the usual. A few questions from vendors, a couple notes from Orville, and two emails from the printing company.” She stopped on one message long enough that I noticed. Then she locked the screen and set the phone facedown. “Nothing that needs me right this second.”

I handed her coffee. We ate at the kitchen island, and she only checked her phone once. Caroline always seemed to be working ahead, anticipating what would come next, but she didn’t rush through breakfast.

When I got up to carry the plates to the sink, she reached for hers.

“Leave it.”

“I can carry a plate.”

“I know, but I’ll get it.”

Her gaze met mine, and we both smiled.

By seven, the sun had started to clear the ridge. Caroline followed me outside in my spare barn jacket, since hers wasn’t built for a Montana morning. It hung past her hips, and I wasn’t sure how to feel about how much I liked seeing her in it.

Hank and Gus were waiting when we entered the barn. Gus came straight to the stall door. Hank stayed where he was, nosing through the last of his hay.

I fed them while Caroline leaned against the stall and watched. She didn’t ask what she could do or pick up a shovel to try to prove she could fit in. She let me work.

I finished with Gus and moved to Hank. When I was done, I looked over at her. “You don’t have to hang around. I know you’ve got work.”

“Yeah.” She didn’t move. Caroline rubbed Hank’s neck, and he lowered his head a little. “I can work later.”

I didn’t need help with the horses, and there was nothing out here for her to organize. The fact she wanted to stay meant something, but I wasn’t sure what to say about that yet. So I didn’t say anything.

Hank leaned into her hand like he’d been waiting all morning for somebody to do that.

“He likes you,” I said.

“I’ve become emotionally invested.”

I wanted to ask her if she meant just the horses, but I didn’t dare. We turned both horses into the small pasture beside the barn. Caroline stood at the fence while they moved off toward the far side, Hank stopping to graze before he got halfway.

She glanced back toward the house. “Speaking of things I’m emotionally invested in, I need to figure out what we’re putting next to the wagon at the heritage display.”

I rested my arms on the fence. “You still want the old hauling records?”

“I’d like to know whether they tell us anything useful about the wagon. If they don’t, fine. A photo and a short description will work.”

“And if they do?”

“Then I can make a better display.”