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To say Harley wasn’t prepared for the shift in Mason’s demeanor was an understatement. He was actually being nice to her.

Okay, perhaps nice was too strong of a word. He was being respectful. He was helping clean up, that was all. Hadn’t he said himself that he came from a large family who all pitched in?

Large family.

She worried her lower lip as she scrubbed at the casserole dish she’d used to make the macaroni. “I’m sorry about earlier.”

Mason grunted.

“About dissing your family—when I said your mother should have taught you manners.”

He stiffened. “It’s fine.”

“I’m not trying to make excuses, but I want you to know I was defensive because you startled me.”

Mason peeked at her. “Yeah. I figured. You weren’t supposed to have your phone.”

Her eyes widened and she flushed as she held out another glass. “Did Vern tell you that?”

“Yeah.”

She groaned. “Does he know I had it today?” That deep, sick feeling returned to her stomach. “Please tell me he doesn’t blame me for what happened today.”

Mason stopped what he was doing and faced her fully. “Why do you think he would blame you?”

Harley shrugged. “Maybe because I should be blamed.”

“Did you throw your uncle from that horse?”

She huffed. “I don’t see why that would matter.”

“Answer the question.”

“No, I didn’t throw my uncle from his horse,” she muttered with derision.

“Then none of what happened today is your fault. You couldn’t have predicted what happened to your uncle any more than I could have. Sometimes things just happen.” Mason took the glass from her hand and dried it a little rougher than was necessary.

Harley studied him as his agitation grew.

“Regardless, if I didn’t have my phone, maybe I would have noticed that he wasn’t back yet. Maybe I could have called someone or—”

“Neither one of us blames you for what happened, okay? It was an accident. He’s just lucky that we were both here to be able to help him.”

Harley turned to the dishes again. “I suppose you’re right.”

They continued washing and drying the dishes until every last one was clean. Together, they put everything away. Once the kitchen was clean, Harley fully expected Mason to take off and tell her he would be back in the morning. Instead, he leaned against the refrigerator, hovering as if he wanted to say something.

She moved a few paces from him and hoisted herself up on the island. “So… big family.”

“Yeah, but you already saw it first-hand.”

Harley grimaced. That was right. She’d spied on him. “It must have been nice. I bet you were really close to everyone growing up.”

“It wasn’t without its challenges,” he said. “I would say the same thing about your family situation, but based on what you and your uncle discussed at dinner, I suppose that wouldn’t be accurate.”

She made another face. “Let’s just say that growing up in my house wasn’t the most uplifting or encouraging setting. Every activity I was forced into doing. It was so my mother could brag about her perfect little family in her perfect little house.” Harley snorted. “Except that house was like three times as big as this one and three times as lonely.” She didn’t dare look Mason in the eye. This was all too much information to be sharing with someone she barely knew.

“Sounds tough.” While she’d expected his voice to hold some kind of resentful judgment, she was surprised to find his tone was void of any of that.