Page 52 of A Hard Habit to Break

“Oh my goodness,” Bethany cheered. “This… this is amazing. I never knew any of these types of programs existed.”

Rachel had the sudden urge to hug Bethany. So she did. Service had an excellent new addition in Bethany Walker. Her father had found a wonderful woman who loved him and their home.

“There’s more.” Benji waggled his brows. “If we design with green infrastructure in mind—solar panels, hydropower—The American Rescue Plan has a Climate Resilience Green Infrastructure Grant specific for rural areas.”

“Hot dog,” her father yelled. “Service would be the one-stop shop for emergency planning, all ’cause my girls made it happen. And you, too, Benji.”

“Thanks, Mr. J., but Rachel will be the designing star. My job is to light the masterpiece to its full potential.”

Her dad laughed. It was hearty and warm and welcoming. “I said what I said.”

Benji, having officially been reprimanded, said. “Okay, then.”

“Benji, you should know, Dad’sI said what I saidis reserved for family. You’re an honorary Johnson now. Next visit is here in the house instead of the barn.”

Benji, approving of his newfound family, grinned. “No, thanks, FriendFriend. I’ve already worked my way to the top. I’ll be sure to mention the adoption to my parents on their next visit to the country.”

Benji’s parents were indie film producers living wherever their interests took them. Rachel knew of his younger sister, Blythe. She assumed they were estranged, as Benji rarely mentioned her.

“Okay, I have work to do. I’ll wear a path across the old carpet in my room. Thanks to Dad and his tile-saving suggestion.”

“Be careful on your climb, RJ.”

“Ah, did I miss something?” Benji stood, gathering his laptop, notebook, and cell phone for the return to the barn.

Her father chuckled. “RJ’s got a clear view of the Calvary homestead from the roof.”

Color blossomed in Rachel’s cheeks. Benji said nothing.

Rachel blew out a breath. “Dad, snitches get stitches.”

Before things escalated, Bethany chimed in, “You don’t have to mount a defense, Rachel. How about you open the door and follow your heart? Wherever it leads… No matter what you decide, your family is in your corner.”

The confident look on Bethany’s soft features revealed that the opening she spoke of reached beyond a physical barrier. Could Rachel open herself to Noah beyond his general well-being? A better question,shouldshe? Years had passed since her secret treks onto Calvary land. In the silence, questions piled up like bricks. What had been a cavernous space tightened her chest and crowded her thoughts with indecision. Should she stay put and worry? Or be there for Noah?

Rachel waited for a second before hugging Benji, her father, and Bethany goodnight. Something had deepened in Rachel and Bethany’s connection. A growing sisterhood between women, with stories only they could understand.

“You’re no coward, Rachel Johnson. These boots were made for walking.” And that’s what she’d do.

Walk.

With purpose, if not a destination.

Rachel climbed the stairs, shoved her bare feet into her work boots, and then grabbed her sketch pad and tablet in one hand. This was probably her worst idea yet, but she appreciated Bethany’s advice where she’d expected judgment.

Tonight, she wouldn’t wrestle within. Maybe Noah would leave her waiting. Maybe her worry would be unappreciated. But she’d follow her heart… wherever the path led.

CHAPTER FIFTEEN

NOAH’S TRUCK GROANEDto a stop beside his cabin, the engine ticking as it cooled in the mountain air. Two thirty a.m. and he could still taste smoke on his tongue, feel the phantom heat of flames against his face.

Saturday night had come and gone as the moon reminded him how many hours he’d worked to save Midtown Service. The initial scene had been chaos. Plumes of ominous gray smoke billowed from crumpled plywood, pines engulfed in flames. Amid the melee came cries for help at every octave, a disjointed band of fire engine horns, and the thud of heavy boots moving equipment.

Within a matter of minutes, smoke and flame formed a dense wall, creating a labyrinth of hazards for victims and first responders.

His shoulders ached from hauling equipment, his gear bag weighing twice what it should after fourteen hours of fighting a fire that had consumed half the trailer park before they’d gotten it under control.

He sat for a moment, hands still gripping the steering wheel. The body aches went deeper than muscles; every bone vibrated with a weariness that would require a full day of lights out. Silence washed over him. No radio chatter. No shouted commands. No propane tanks threatening to blow. Just the whisper of wind through the forest and the distant murmur of water trickling over stones and roots. It settled his body as thoughts of Rachel burned in his mind.