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“Thanks,” he said, reaching out a hand to Brad, who shook it, pulling him in the house. “Thank God. I was beginning to think I was going to eat this pile of corn by myself on the porch.”

“No way, man. That smells delicious. So, my dad told me about your insane hammering abilities and that you might be taking a look at the damned window and shutter on our barn?”

“Yeah, I was taking some, uh, frustrations, out on a few posts. But I wouldn’t mind helping put a shutter back on. Mind if I ask why me? I mean, it’s a shutter. You and your dad could handle this with your eyes shut and one hand tied behind your backs.”

Brad eyed him warily. “I want to hear you say that again when you’re finished trying. Note I said ‘trying,’ not ‘done fixing it.’ You’ll see. For now, though, we eat.” He clapped Owen on the back, more of an apology than the exchange they’d shared outside.

Owen nodded, feeling better. Alan stood next to his wife, a finger outstretched to try whatever batter she whipped up. One arm wrapped tightly around her, but she playfully batted his hand away. Alan looked over his shoulder and waved at Owen.

Owen returned the smile, set down the corn and gave them their space. He loved the easy way the family moved around each other, used to, yet appreciative, of each other.

Brad pulled down water glasses from an ornate cabinet with gold inlays and a teal stain. He only counted five spots, though.

“Isn’t Julia coming?”

Sadness, maybe even a trace of anger, flitted across Brad’s eyes.

“Not this time. Busy with something at work.”

He lowered his voice, nodding to the chair at the other end of the table, Paige sunk low, buried in her chair under blankets.

“If you don’t mind, don’t mention it to Paige, though. She’s never really been fond of Julia and I don’t want to upset her today.”

Owen nodded, but thought back to meeting Julia at the party, how she didn’t seem that devoted to Paige or her family back then. Was the writing on the wall for she and Brad?

Then Alan and Marge walked in, arms full of food and Owen’s stomach growled loudly, drawing a laugh from Marge.

“That’s how we like our guests to arrive,” she said. Paige perked up as everyone came in, but Owen couldn’t help but notice how pale she still looked.

“Thank you for having me, ma’am. I’m glad to be here again. And the dinner smells amazing.”

“Well, with compliments like that, I don’t know why we didn’t invite you sooner,” Marge quipped, smiling broadly. “Sit, everyone. I don’t want this getting cold. But save room for dessert. key lime pie; not Paige’s, but it’ll have to do until our girl gets back on her feet.”

Owen’s stomach roared its approval and they all laughed again as they found their seats, piling their plates high with the corn Owen had brought, mashed potatoes, steak, and a fresh greens salad that came from their garden. How anyone ate out when there was fresh food like this was beyond him.

“So, any luck on finding jobs?” Brad asked his sister. Owen whipped his head around at Paige. She was still thinking of leaving?

She didn’t flinch. “Nothing yet, just a company or two asking for some consulting work at hospitalist programs. No, thank you. I’ll keep looking, though. I’ve got the time,” she joked, laughing weakly.

“You’ll find something,” Alan said. “You always do.” Only Marge remained silent, apparently sharing Owen’s lack of enthusiasm for Paige’s continued search for a life outside of Banberry. Especially under the current circumstances.

Owen was thoroughly confused. Paige had to be here for treatment for the next few months, and she was still looking at jobs abroad? Why had she called him here, then? Why not let him go, move on with his life?

Paige looked over at him, her eyes big despite the dark circles underneath them, and reached for his hand. He bent down and kissed the top of her head, not caring that her parents and brother watched on. For now, he’d make the most of it, careful not to let his heart get too carried away with her. Yet even as he made himself that promise, he knew he’d never be able to keep it.

It was already too late. He’d fallen for a woman who would break his heart.

The dinner was delicious, Paige’s family fantastic, but midway through, Owen looked over to find Paige asleep in her armchair, her plate of food barely touched. She was small anyway, but there beside him, curled up into the fetal position, she looked like she could disappear with a light breeze. How she survived the fall half a week ago was a mystery he didn’t like thinking about.

He slid his hand from hers and she barely moved, still cozy in her cocoon. It broke his heart to leave her, but she needed her rest. Besides, he couldn’t be a lazy dinner guest. It wasn’t his nature.

Getting up from his seat, his stomach so full he wondered if he’d ever be hungry again, Owen balanced a stack of plates and made his way to the kitchen.

“Can I help with these?” he asked Marge.

“Absolutely not. You’re the guest. Maybe in a few Sundays I’ll let you, but for now, just keep me company.”

“Yes, ma’am. That pie was fantastic. Thanks.”