Page 29 of Practically Perfect Together

"The heat's brutal today," I say, leaning out the window slightly. "Would you like some water?"

She startles, a droplet of white paint splattering across her cheek as she turns. "Oh! I didn't realize anyone was there."

"Lodge rule number seven. There's always someone within earshot," I reply, the joke coming easily. Months spent among the Callahans has softened my edges in ways I never expected. "I'm Savannah."

"Sabrina," she offers with a hesitant smile, carefully setting down her brush. "And water would be amazing, thank you."

I fill a glass from the pitcher in the refrigerator and head outside, Bear trailing at my heels. Up close, I notice the careful way she holds herself—straight-backed despite the casual clothes, her movements deliberate. There's something vaguely familiar about her, though I can't place it.

"You're new," I say, offering the glass. "Just passing through?"

"Something like that." She accepts the water gratefully, though she eyes Bear with uncertainty. "I'm taking a break. From life, I guess you could say."

"The lodge is good for that," I say, understanding completely. "How'd you end up painting the porch?"

"I asked if there were any rooms available," she explains, absently wiping her paint-speckled hand on the borrowed jeans. "They're booked solid, but Mrs. Callahan said I could stay in the staff cabin if I didn't mind helping out for a few days."

Bear edges closer, his nose twitching with interest. Sabrina tenses slightly.

"He's friendly," I assure her. "Just curious about new people."

"I'm not really a dog person," she says, the phrase striking a chord of recognition in me.

"That's what I used to say," I admit with a laugh. "Now I bake him treats."

She eyes the golden retriever skeptically. "I'll take your word for it."

As she hands back the empty glass, I notice the remnants of a manicure—expensive, carefully maintained until recently. Her fingers are slender, with a pale line on her left ring finger where a ring has been recently removed.

"The east cabin has a temperamental shower," I say, deciding not to comment on what is clearly a personal matter. "You have to jiggle the handle twice to get hot water."

Surprise flickers across her face. "How did you know I'm in the east cabin?"

"Process of elimination. The west one is being renovated, and the north belongs to Max."

"Max?"

"The lodge's carpenter." I gather up Bear's treats, preparing to head back inside. "Fair warning. He's particular about his tools, so maybe avoid the workshop behind the cabin."

Something that might be amusement crosses her face. "Noted."

As I turn to leave, Bear suddenly sits directly in front of Sabrina, his most polite begging posture. She blinks at him, clearly unsure how to respond.

"He's angling for a treat," I explain, pulling one from the container. "Here, you can give it to him."

She hesitates, then gingerly accepts the misshapen treat. "Just hold it out?"

"Palm flat," I demonstrate.

With remarkable composure for someone so clearly out of her element, Sabrina offers the treat to Bear, who takes it delicately from her hand. A small smile tugs at her lips when he gives her fingers a gentle lick of gratitude.

"See? Not so scary."

"I suppose not," she admits, cautiously patting his head.

The porch door swings open, and Max Callahan steps out, toolbox in hand.

"Evie said someone was working on the—" He stops mid-sentence, eyes landing on Sabrina. For a moment, he just stares, an unreadable expression crossing his face.

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