The moving truck creaked up the gravel road, startling a few chickens pecking near the gate of the blue house. Harper Thornvale was already leaning against the side of her old pickup, arms crossed, boots crusted with dry mud, her cap pushed back on her head. The warm afternoon breeze carried the scent of hay, dust, and lavender from her grandma’s yard. She watched the woman step out of the car, curiosity lighting up her face. New in town Harper knew that much, because in a place as small as Lerymore, everyone knows everything within twenty minutes. What she hadn’t expected, though, was for the new neighbor to be... like that. Sharp eyes, hesitant stance, the kind of quiet beauty that seemed out of place in the countryside and somehow, exactly right.

Harper felt her stomach do one of its usual happy flips. Nothing unusual. That’s just how she was open-hearted, quick to smile, full of energy she never quite managed to contain. And, truth be told, not great at keeping her thoughts to herself.

Before the woman could even reach for the first box, Harper had already grabbed one and called out:

“Hey, careful with that trunk! It looks like the type that’ll try to murder you on the stairs!”

She laughed too loud, as usual and balanced the box on her hip like it was nothing. She wasn’t expecting a response, really. Just a glance. And what she got was one of those brief looks that stick around longer than they should. “You must be the new tenant at the blue house, right?” she went on, grinning wide. “I’m Harper. My grandparents have the farm just past the bridge. They said you were coming today and, well... lifting heavy stuff is kind of my superpower.”