Page 10 of Sunshine and the Grumpy Groundskeeper (The Callahans of Elk Ridge #1)

Chapter Ten

Rowan

I lose myself in the rhythm of preparing seedling trays, my fingers working methodically through the rich potting soil. The repetitive motion helps quiet my mind, gives me something tangible to focus on instead of the memory of Daisy's lips on mine, the way her eyes lit up when she saw the wildlife blind, how perfectly she fit against me when we fell.

Seven hours since I left her at her cabin, and I still can't shake the feeling that something fundamental has shifted. Like tectonic plates moving beneath seemingly solid ground.

Eight days. That's all we have left. Eight days until she returns to the city, to her real life. Whatever this is—this connection, this pull between us—it has an expiration date. I know this. I've known it from the start.

So why did I build her that blind? Why did I kiss her again? Why am I carefully labeling these mountain laurel seedlings with her name when I should be reinforcing the walls around my heart instead?

"There you are."

I look up to find Mom in the doorway of the garden shed, her silver hair catching the late afternoon light. I didn't hear her approach, too lost in my thoughts and the quiet work of my hands among the soil.

"Just getting ready for spring planting," I say, though these particular seedlings aren't part of our regular lodge landscaping and we both know it.

"Mm-hmm." She steps into the shed, eyes traveling over the neat rows of trays, pausing on the ones I've just labeled. "Mountain laurel for the east trail overlook? The one where Daisy likes to sketch?"

"It's good for erosion control." But my ears burn as I tamp down another seedling into its tray.

"Of course." She settles on a stool near my workbench, her casual posture betrayed by the intent look in her eyes. The one that always preceded difficult conversations when I was growing up. "Beautiful morning for a hike. Did Daisy enjoy the waterfall?"

So that's where this is going. "She did."

"And the blind you built her? That's quite a gesture, Rowan."

I focus on measuring the next piece of wood, avoiding her gaze. "It’s not like I built it from scratch. That old thing needed restoring for quite some time."

"Practical." She nods sagely. "Like the carved animals and the tea shelf built to her exact height?"

I set down my tools with a sigh. "Mom."

"I had an interesting call this morning," she says instead of pushing further. "From Janet, Daisy's editor."

Something cold settles in my stomach. "Oh?"

"She was quite excited about some opportunity for Daisy. Something about a major bookstore chain featuring her as their spotlight new author." Mom's voice is carefully neutral, but her eyes never leave my face. "Apparently there's a big launch event planned in New York. With some famous children's book advocate hosting."

The cold spreads through my chest. "Sounds like a big deal."

"It is. National promotion, events at forty stores across the country. The kind of opportunity most new authors only dream about." She pauses. "The kind of opportunity that would mean a lot of time in the city. Travel. Publicity."

"Good for her." The words taste like ash. "She deserves it."

"She does." Mom watches me carefully. "Janet mentioned they need her back promptly for meetings, photo shoots, planning sessions. The works."

Each word is another nail in the coffin of whatever foolish hope had started growing this morning. Of course Daisy has to go back. Of course she has this amazing career waiting. Of course what we shared, whatever it might be becoming, can't compete with a dream come true.

I pick up the sandpaper again, needing something to do with my hands. "Did she tell you anything else?"

"Just that Daisy seemed conflicted when she finally called back." Mom's voice softens. "Janet's known her for a long time. Says she's never heard her sound so torn about what should be the easiest 'yes' of her career."

Hope flares briefly, painful in its intensity, before common sense extinguishes it. "She'd be crazy to turn down an opportunity like that."

"Would she?"

"It's her dream, Mom. Her career. Everything she's worked for."

"Dreams can change, Rowan. They can expand to include new things. New people,” she says.

I think of Heather, how she promised these mountains were enough, how quickly that changed when reality set in. "Not everyone is built for this life. The isolation, the quiet, the distance from everything."

"Daisy seems to love it here."

"For two weeks." The bitterness in my voice surprises even me. "It's easy to love something when you know it's temporary. When it's an escape, not reality."

Mom is quiet for a long moment. When she speaks, her voice is gentle but firm. "Is that what you think? That what she feels for the lodge, for you, is just a vacation romance?"

I don't answer directly. "Did you know she thought I was a mysterious forest hermit when we first met? Like something out of one of her romance novels."

"And now?"

"Now she knows I'm the groundskeeper. That this—" I gesture around the workshop, the tools, the practical reality of my life, "—is what I am. Day in, day out. No mystery, no romance. Just trails and maintenance and quiet."

"And you think that's not enough for her?"

"I know it's not." The certainty feels like lead in my veins. "You said it yourself. She has this amazing opportunity. National promotion. Famous hosts. The spotlight. Everything she deserves."

"That doesn't mean she can't also have?—"

"What, Mom?" I cut her off, the fear making me sharp. "A long-distance relationship with the guy who fixes trails? Weekend visits to the middle of nowhere? How long before that gets old? Before she realizes she's missing out on her real life to visit some mountains and a man who doesn't fit in her world?"

"Oh, Rowan." The disappointment in her voice stings more than anger would. "Is that really what you think of her? Of yourself?"

I look down at my hands, calloused and rough from years of working the land. "I think she deserves her dream. And I think I've been down this road before."

"Daisy isn't Heather."

"No." I swallow hard. "She's more. More talented, more special, more... everything. Which means she has even more to lose by being tied to someone like me, to a place like this."

Mom stands, coming to place her hand on my cheek the way she did when I was small. "You're doing it again, honey. Deciding the ending before the story's even been written."

"I'm being practical."

"You're being afraid." She holds my gaze, unwavering. "And you're making choices for her without even giving her a voice."

The truth of it hits like a physical blow, but I can't afford to acknowledge it. Not with the countdown hovering over us, not with the reality of her amazing future waiting in New York, not with the memory of Heather's growing resentment still fresh despite the years between.

"It's better this way," I say finally. "Better to end it before it really begins. Before either of us gets hurt worse."

"Is it?" Mom's hand drops away. "Are you really protecting her, Rowan? Or just yourself?"

Night has fallen by the time I move to the maintenance shed. The physical labor isn't enough to quiet my mind, so I tackle the most grueling task I can find. The strain in my muscles is a welcome distraction from the storm in my head.

I'm hefting a chainsaw onto a high shelf when Liam appears in the doorway, silhouetted against the outdoor lights.

"Bit late for inventory," he says, stepping inside and shutting the door against the night chill.

"Needed to get done." I don't look at him, focusing instead on arranging tools with military precision.

"Interesting timing." He leans against the workbench, watching me with the patient, assessing gaze that's served him well as lodge manager. "Especially since Connor mentioned seeing you and Daisy looking pretty happy at the waterfall blind this morning."

My hands tighten on the wrench I'm holding. "That was this morning."

"And now it's evening, and you're rearranging tools that have been fine for months." He crosses his arms. "Word gets around, you know. About Daisy's big opportunity in New York."

"Good for her." I shove a box of spare parts onto a shelf with more force than necessary.

"That's it? 'Good for her'? After spending a week building her that blind? After whatever happened between you two that had Connor saying he's never seen you smile like that?"

"Drop it, Liam."

"No." He straightens, all pretense of casualness gone. "Not this time. I watched you shut down after Heather left. I'm not watching you do it again before Daisy's even gone."

The mention of Heather ignites something hot and painful in my chest. "This is different."

"How? Because from where I'm standing, it looks exactly the same. You getting close to someone, then building walls the second things get real."

"She has a life in the city." I slam a drawer shut. "A dream job. A major book launch. Everything she's ever wanted."

"And that automatically means she can't want anything else?"

"Don't be naive." I turn to face him finally, anger simmering just below the surface. "You think she's going to give up national promotion and some celebrity book champion to, what? Live in a cabin and watch me fix trails?"

Liam's expression hardens. "What I think is that you're not even giving her a choice. You're deciding for her, just like you always do."

"Because I know how this ends!" The words burst out louder than I intended. "City people always leave, Liam. They love the idea of mountain life until the reality sets in. The isolation. The distance from everything. The limitations."

"Daisy isn't Heather."

"No, she has even more waiting for her in the city than Heather did." I turn back to the tools, unable to face the sympathy in his eyes. "At least Heather only had a job offer. Daisy has her dream career taking off."

"So you're just going to push her away before she can leave? Real mature, Row."

"I'm being realistic." My voice is bitter even to my own ears. "You think someone like Daisy belongs here? Someone whose head is full of fairy tales and talking animals? Someone who needs art supplies and book launches and city connections?"

Liam is quiet for a moment. When he speaks, his voice is carefully controlled. "Is that really what you think of her? That she's just some flighty city girl who can't handle real life?"

The truth is a knife between my ribs. Of course that's not what I think. Daisy is the most genuine person I've ever met. Her whimsy isn't frivolous, it's how she sees beauty in everything. But admitting that means admitting what I'm losing, and I can't bear that pain.

"What I think doesn't matter." I shove another tool into place. "What matters is reality. And the reality is that in a week, she'll be gone. Back to book signings and launch parties and everything she deserves."

"And you're not going to fight for her? For whatever it is you two have?"

"We don't have anything." The lie tastes like acid.

Liam laughs, the sound harsh in the small space. "Right. That's why you spent hours carving animals into trail markers. Why you fixed that wildlife blind for her. Why you've smiled more in the past two weeks than in the past two years."

"It was a mistake." Each word is a stone I stack between myself and the truth. "Getting involved with someone. I knew better."

"So what's your plan? Avoid her for the next week? Pretend this morning never happened?"

The question hits too close to home. That's exactly what I've been considering. Retreating to the far corners of the property, sending Connor to handle her research needs, hiding until she's gone and I can lick my wounds in peace.

"If I have to."

"Coward." The word drops like a hammer.

"What did you say?" I turn slowly, anger rising to replace the fear.

"You heard me." Liam doesn't back down. "You're a coward, Rowan. Too afraid to even try because you might get hurt again. Too scared to admit that you care about her."

"You don't know what you're talking about."

"Don't I? I was there after Heather left, remember? I watched you shut everybody out, throw yourself into the trails, pretend you were fine when we all knew you weren't."

"And now you think I should set myself up for that again?" My voice rises. "With someone who has even more reason to leave?"

"I think you should at least be honest. With her, and with yourself." Liam steps closer. "She deserves that much."

"What she deserves is better than being tied to someone who will never fit in her world." The truth beneath my fear slips out before I can stop it. "Better than having to choose between her dreams and... and whatever this is."

"So you're making the choice for her. Deciding that your world and hers can't possibly overlap."

"They can't." I slam my palm against the shelf. "People like Daisy don't end up with people like me, Liam. Not in real life. They go back to their careers and their cities and their success. And they should."

"People like Daisy?" Liam's voice is dangerously quiet. "You mean people who see magic in everyday things? Who make you laugh? Who look at you like you hung the moon? Those kind of people?"

The accuracy of his description is like salt in an open wound. "You know what I mean."

"Yeah, I do. You mean people who scare the hell out of you because they make you want things you're not sure you can have."

I have no defense against that truth, so I retreat to anger. "I'm ending it. Before it goes any further. Before she has to be the one to do it."

"And if she doesn't want to end it?"

"She will." The certainty in my voice masks the terror beneath.

Liam shakes his head, disappointment etched in every line of his face. "You know, for someone who spends his life maintaining gardens and trails, you sure are hell-bent on destroying this one."

"It's better this way." I turn back to my tools.

"No, it's not." Liam moves toward the door. "It's just easier.”