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to take some effort, but eventually she managed to nod, slow and short as it was. “Okay.”
    At the bottom of the stairs, she stopped and turned, the whole of her fear laid bare in her big brown eyes.
    “Thanks, Finn. I really hope I can do this.”
    “You can.”
    She didn’t look wholly convinced, and as she walked away, Finn had two thoughts.
    He’d better not fuck this up for her.
    And he should have given her the laundry to take up to the lodge.

Chapter 3
“Fish or cut bait.”
    You can’t back out now.
    How many times had Jessie repeated that to herself in the last couple of hours? At least a dozen. And each time she’d followed it up with an
Of course you can
.
    No. She told Finn she’d do it and it was already ten to eight.
    Shit
.
    Her stomach hadn’t stopped twisting since she’d left Finn at the Green cabin earlier, and now, as she headed up the north trail on quaking knees, she honestly thought she might throw up. Frankly, she and Finn had been through a lot over the years, but she didn’t need him—or anyone else for that matter—watching her hurl into the bushes.
    No. You can cry and you can freak out, but you will not—under any circumstances—throw up in front of him.
    Jessie had no memory of walking past the work shed or the clearing where they’d set up a couple of nets in case anyone (guests or otherwise) wanted to kick a ball around. She didn’t remember seeing the old dilapidated tree house Jimmy had built for the boys when they were little, and surely she hadn’t already passed the huge stump with the wild bleeding heart growing out of it.
    And yet somehow suddenly she was at the lake. Jessie had been close enough to it over the years to know that while the far end, which sat mostly in shade, had its fair share of moss and lily pads, this side was nothing but crystal-clear water and rocks.
    And there was Finn, ankle deep in the water, his gray T-shirt half-tucked, half-loose, his jeans rolled up to his shins, and his fingers interlocked behind his head like they always were when he was thinking about something.
    “Hey.” He made his way to dry ground, not seeming to care one bit that each step splashed water up his legs to where his jeans were rolled. Oddly enough, he didn’t look the least bit surprised to see her, as though he never doubted for a single second she’d show up.
    It was nice that one of them had that much faith in her.
    Jessie stopped a few meters back from the water’s edge, swallowed hard, then forced the strongest smile she could, but, truth be told, she wasn’t even sure it reached her mouth.
    “Hi.”
    There were a couple of seconds of silence before Finn smiled softly. “So that Olivia—she’s a little bit nuts, but, man, can she cook, eh?”
    “What?” Jessie blinked hard, trying to make sense of why he’d bring that up now.
    “I swear to God,” Finn said, “I could eat that salmon terrine thing every damn night.”
    As he spoke, he reached into a bag he’d left on the rocks, pulled out a couple of the lodge’s travel mugs, and handed one to Jessie.
    “Yeah, I guess.” Frowning, she tipped her head and pointed at the mug. “So…what? Did you smuggle some out inside the mugs or something?”
    “What’re you talking about? It’s tea.”
    “Tea.”
    “Yeah.” He dragged the word out a few seconds longer than necessary. “You always have tea about now.”
    “I know, but—”
    “If you don’t want it…” He started to reach for it, but Jessie snapped it out of his reach.
    “Try that again,” she said, laughing, “and you’ll draw back a bloody stump.”
    Finn just grinned and made his way slowly to the water, not as far this time, only going in deep enough that the water sloshed gently over the tops of his feet; then he turned so they faced each other. Jessie stayed right where she was, sipped her tea, and waited for him to begin preaching about the wondrous, marvelous thing that was water.
    About how she had nothing to fear,