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“ H e asked you if that was a smart idea?”

Clara cupped her mug of dandelion root tea, angry all over again just hearing Indie repeat the words Holden had said to her yesterday. “Yep. And then he texted me asking for the time and place of the run.”

Indie’s expressive green eyes widened. “No…you don’t think—”

“He’d better not. I didn’t give him any details, but this town is the size of a thumb. It wouldn’t be hard to get the details.”

“It’s just a running club though. It’s not like you said you were joining a biker gang.”

“I know. He’s out of his mind, just like my brothers.” They sat in her acupuncture studio, which was actually just a converted garage attached to her house. Tea and a chat before Indie’s appointment was a long-standing tradition.

“I told Mom, and do you know what she said?” Clara asked.

“I can hazard a guess.”

“She said that it was sweet. That he was just looking out for me.” She loved her mother, but the woman could never say a bad word about any of her family members.

“Well, lucky for you, you have one sane family member,” Indie said as she sipped her tea.

“Who?”

Indie jokingly shoved her shoulder.

Clara chuckled. “You know what I need? A date. Holden takes up far too much of my brain space.”

Indie grinned. “Oh yeah? And who, pray tell, will this date be with?”

“I don’t know. Maybe someone who can fix my problem before I turn thirty next month.”

Indie tilted her head. “Being a virgin is not a problem.”

“It is when you’re my age. But it’s okay, because you know what I realized yesterday?”

“That for all of history, societal structures have been designed to oppress women when really we’re the more intellectual and emotionally intelligent gender, so independence is actually a good thing?”

Anyone else probably would have been shocked by that response. Not Clara. Indie was still recovering from separating from her husband and in her “I hate men” stage of grief.

“No,” Clara said firmly. “But close. I realized I’ve been sleeping on the masculine side of the bed.”

“The what?”

“The masculine side.”

“The masculine side according to who?”

“According to Feng Shui. So last night I slept on the feminine side.”

“Which is the feminine side?”

“The left. And now the masculine side is open and available.”

“You’re crazy.”

“And pretty.” She grinned as she sipped her tea one last time before setting it on the desk. “All right, your turn. How are you doing?”

Indie’s chest rose and fell, any hint of a smile slipping off her face. “Honestly?”

“Always.”

“Lost.”

Clara swallowed hard. “Tell me about it.”

“It’s been almost a year since Colt and I separated, and there are still days where it hits me so hard. I had this life all planned out. Colt and I were going to have kids. I had a thriving photography business. And now everything’s a mess.”

Clara leaned forward and squeezed her best friend’s hand. “Going through IVF for years would take a toll on the strongest couple.”

Indie had completed round after round of IVF for five years, often struggling alone while Colt was away on missions.

She’d also split her time between living in Amber Ridge and California, where Colt was stationed.

To say Indie’s life had been hard these last couple years would be an understatement.

And her mental health had taken a battering.

Indie ran her finger over the mug handle. “I run into his mother around town sometimes. And her fake niceness makes me so angry. She made a comment about how she didn’t think I was the type to be so independent, and it was good to see I was managing so well.”

Another stress on their marriage…his mother.

She’d been nice at the start, but by the end, something had changed.

She’d become so unkind, but not in an overly obvious way.

She was the queen of passive-aggressive comments and doing anything to get Colt to herself, including faking illness when needed.

“I so wish you’d spoken to Colt about his mother. ”

“Honestly, IVF and him being away for missions so much was putting such a strain on our relationship that I didn’t want to add anything else.”

“But she was a strain on your relationship.”

Indie lifted a shoulder. “Colt loves her. And she never said anything obviously unkind. It was all underhanded.” She shook her head. “It’s not really her though.”

“What is it?”

“I still have these moments where I feel this suffocating ‘life isn’t fair’ weight on my chest. I see these mothers walking around with babies and children, and I wonder why they get to be mothers and I don’t.”

“There’s still time.”

“I’m thirty-four, separated from my husband, and with a history of infertility. Time is not on my side.”

No. Clara was not going to let her best friend and cousin spiral. She stood. “Come on. Let’s get you on the bed. I know just the points to put in today.”

The focus would be circulation, hormonal balance, and relaxation. Definitely relaxation.

As Indie climbed onto the bed, Clara got her needles ready. Her passion for acupuncture had started when she’d looked for natural ways to bring the body into alignment during chemotherapy. She’d found acupuncture, and she hadn’t looked back.

Acupuncture worked by balancing the body’s energy, also known as Qi or Chi . It could basically be used as a holistic approach to help the body feel better.

Unfortunately, she hadn’t been able to help Indie get pregnant.

Once Indie was comfortable, Clara lifted her wrist and felt her pulse. The quality, strength, and rhythm of the pulse allowed her to get a sense of her patient’s overall energy and balance. As suspected, Indie’s wasn’t as strong as Clara would like it to be.

The first needle she put in was at the Yin Tang point, also known as the Third Eye point between the brows, just above the bridge of the nose. It was her favorite for calm and relaxation, and the second it was in, Clara saw Indie’s body relax.

Magic. Acupuncture was pure magic—exactly why she loved it so much.

She systematically moved around Indie’s body, inserting the thin needles into all the points she needed. When Clara was done, she dimmed the lights, turned up the calming music, and set a small buzzer by Indie’s hand. “Press the buzzer if you need anything.”

She usually left the needles in for half an hour. Today, she might leave Indie’s in for a bit longer, not just for the benefit of the needles but also the rest, something her cousin needed right now.

Clara stepped out of her studio and into the house, closing the door quietly before moving into the kitchen.

Scarlett, of course, wasn’t home. No surprise. Exactly why Clara liked having her as a roommate. She helped Clara pay her mortgage while rarely being home.

Something on the kitchen counter caught her attention—a pile of printed pieces of paper on a laptop. But something was poking out.

She frowned as she slid out an ID card. It had Scarlett’s photo, but the name was different.

She lifted it. “Rosie Thorpe.”

“ Hey .”

Clara jumped and dropped the ID. “Scarlett…I didn’t know you were home. I’m sorry, it was sticking out and I was curious—”

“Curious? You were looking at my private stuff because you were curious?” She snatched up her things. “Here’s an idea—how about you mind your own business?”

Then she turned and stormed out.

Okay, maybe Clara needed to rethink the whole keeping Scarlett around just because she was quiet, because Jesus Christ, that was rude. After all, this was her freaking house, and Scarlett had left her “private stuff” sitting out on the kitchen counter. It was ridiculous to be angry at that.

Well, the run-club-bonding thing was probably off the table.

Branches snapped beneath Holden’s feet as he ran, cool air slapping him in the face. Jesse ran beside him, his best friend matching him step for step.

It was later than they normally ran. The sun was already up and the temperature slightly warmer than usual. It was still damn cold though, something he appreciated about Montana. Because who the hell wanted the heat when they ran?

He sucked in a lungful of air, the smell of pine and forest filling his nose.

Fuck, he loved these mountains. He’d spent his entire adult life in the military. The transition out had been hard, but this big open space beside his house made it easier. So did living in the same town as his best friend.

What didn’t make it easier? Clara.

Dammit, why couldn’t he get her out of his head? The sheer fucking fact that she’d been angry at him yesterday was toying with him. Making him want to call her. Hear her voice or that sweet laugh of hers.

He shouldn’t be thinking about her this much. She was a friend. That was all.

He ran faster, Jesse once again upping his pace to match him.

Exhaustion weighed on his limbs, and he loved it. Exhausting his body was what drowned out everything else. It allowed his brain to stop working and focusing on everything he shouldn’t be focusing on.

When they finally reached his place, his chest was moving quickly, sweat dripping down his bare chest.

The house he’d bought was old and on four acres of land, but the reason he’d bought it was for the attached workshop. It fit all his woodworking tools and boasted large doors so that when he opened them, he could work with just the sound of the wind in his ears. The mountains as his backdrop.

They stepped inside his house, and he felt Jesse’s gaze on him before either of them spoke.

“Something on your mind?” Jesse finally asked.

Usually, he told his best friend everything. They’d been to hell and back in the military, assigned to the same Ghost Ops team. But anything to do with Jesse’s sister felt too strange.

“Just thinking about work.” A damn lie. And the look Jesse gave him said he saw right through it.

“How’d your quote go yesterday?”

“It was fine, although the woman had her quirks.” He crossed to the kitchen and grabbed two bottles of water from the fridge. “You know, if you stay long enough, you’ll see your mom. She’s dropping by to pick up a key holder.”

“A key holder?”

“Apparently she keeps losing her keys.”

Jesse scoffed. “That isn’t a new thing. She’s been losing her keys for as long as I can remember. I lost count of the number of times I had to walk to school because she couldn’t find the car keys. They usually turned up a day later under some Pop-Tart wrappers between the couch cushions.”

Holden chuckled. “Becket’s Pop-Tart wrappers?”

“Who else. That guy used to eat Mom out of house and home.”

Holden laughed. Jesse had grown up with two siblings. With noise and laughter. While Holden had grown up with his mother. They’d been best friends. It was great…until she’d gotten her diagnosis.

He swallowed the acid in his throat as his phone rang, Briar’s name flashing on the screen. “Hi, Briar.”

“Hi. Just wondering if you had that quote for me?”

Holden moved into the living room. “Not yet. I’ll probably take a couple more days.” He’d told the woman up to a week but shouldn’t be surprised that she expected it earlier.

“Oh. Okay.”

“I’ll—”

“Actually, I wanted to ask you something else. Would you like to drive together to the run on Thursday? I can show you where we start, and I can introduce you to some of my coworkers in the group.”

He ran his fingers through his hair. Honestly, being around the woman for that much time wasn’t exactly how he wanted to spend his morning.

“That’s a nice offer, but I might be going straight to a job after, so I’ll need my truck.

” Not true. He’d be checking on Clara before going home for a shower. But Briar didn’t need to know that.

“Really?” He could almost hear her nose wrinkling. “Won’t you be all sweaty?”

“Depends how fast everyone runs.”

“Hm. Okay. Um, well, I guess I’ll see you there then.”

“You will. And I’ll have the quotes to you ASAP.”

“Okay. Thanks.” Her voice was flatter now.

Holden hung up to see Jesse staring at him.

“Who was that?” he asked.

“The woman I quoted yesterday.”

“What did she want?”

“Offered to drive us to the run. She’s the organizer.”

“Uh…so she’s into you.”

“She’s newly divorced.”

“Looking for a rebound?”

“Even if she was, I wouldn’t be interested.”

Jesse nodded slowly. “Okay. Good.”

“Good?”

“Yeah. Good. You don’t want to date someone like that.”

“Who do I want to date?”

Jesse gave him a strange look, but before Holden could ask him about it, the doorbell rang.

Jesse moved toward it before Holden could and opened the door to Pam Hayes. Jesse’s mother was tall, with chocolate eyes that matched her sons’, and a kind smile.

“Jesse, what a nice surprise.” She pulled her son into a hug, and when she looked up at Holden, her smile softened further. “Holden.”

He met her halfway and they hugged. And God, there was something that always kicked in his chest when Pam Hayes hugged him. Something that reminded him so infinitely of his own mother’s hugs. A warmth. A gentleness.

Hell, every time the older woman smiled at him or even spoke to him, he felt like he was a fifteen-year-old kid again.

Pam moved back, hands going to his arms. “How are you, honey?”

“I’m good.”

“Great.”

“I’ll go get your key holder.”

“We’ll come,” she said.

Jesse grinned. “Guess we’re all going.”

They stepped outside and headed to his workshop. He opened the heavy, weathered barn doors and the scent of sanded wood hit him hard. He loved it.

The floor was littered with sawdust, a testament to the hours he spent working in this space. There were tools stored along the walls and a workbench in the center, which still held Mr. Bruno’s half-finished coffee table.

He turned on the lights and lifted the piece he’d made for Pam. It still smelled of the polish he’d used on it the previous night.

Pam took it from his fingers, a gasp slipping from her lips. “Oh, Holden. This is spectacular.”

He grinned. It was just a key holder, but Pam had been his biggest supporter since the day they’d met. “Thank you.”

She looked back to him. “You, my boy, are marvelous, you know that?”

“Careful, you’ll give him a big head.” Jesse chuckled under his breath.

“No,” she corrected. “I’ll cement to him just how talented he is.” She ran her fingers over the key organizer like it was a rare piece of art. “Beautiful.”

He always thought that if this was the sort of praise Jesse had grown up with, it was a wonder his head fit through doorways. “It’s nothing.”

Pam gave him a look. “It’s not nothing.” She drew Holden into another of those big hugs. “You’re so very talented. Your mother would be proud.”

His limbs froze, something heavy suddenly sitting on his chest.

Another thing he loved about Pam—she wasn’t scared to talk about his mother, even though she’d never known the woman. And yeah, it felt kind of good to have her remembered by someone other than him.