Jackson pounded in another nail, then sat back on his haunches and wiped the sweat off his brow. The plywood floor creaked beneath him. Swinging a hammer had taken some getting used to. He hadn't done it in almost twenty years. At first, he'd hit the wood more often than the nail. YouTube videos helped—there seemed to be a video for everything, including how to set studs to frame a wall, the current task at hand.

He eyed his rough handiwork and shook his head at the strangeness of it all. A lot had changed since coming to Dogwood. He'd wanted to get as far away from the airline's board of directors as possible, and he'd certainly achieved it. He hadn't checked his email in days.

He pushed himself to his feet. He needed to bring up more two-by-fours to brace the walls. He crossed the small space and climbed down to where he'd stacked a pile of the blond wood. As he reached the ground, his phone vibrated in his pocket. It was Dally asking where he was.

Jackson's mouth tightened. He'd managed to keep the treehouse construction a secret thus far. By sheer stroke of luck, Mr. Huang had delivered the materials while Denny and Dally were out with Dad. He texted Dally back a noncommittal lie about doing nothing.

Dally returned his text quickly: Let's go for a walk. Meet me at the house.

Jackson looked up at the treehouse and bit the inside of his cheek. He had work to do. But it was unusual for Dally to seek him out privately. Maybe he wanted something.

His curiosity piqued, he texted back, on my way, then put the phone in his pocket.

As he ambled back to the house alongside the creek, he wiped his face with the back of his forearm. It wasn't yet noon, but it was hot as hell. Dogwood summers were almost as bad as Toronto's heat, which stuck your shirt to your back as soon as you got outside. Hammering nails inside the treehouse had wreathed him in sweat. At least he was only going to see Dally, who wouldn't care if he smelled like a labourer.

When he reached the house, he found Dally sitting on the steps, his long legs splayed out in front of him. He wore linen pants and a dress shirt rolled up to bare his forearms. Dally was always presentable, unlike Jackson who was more likely to wear T-shirts and jeans no matter the occasion. Dally squinted up at him and shaded his multicoloured eyes with his hand.

"Where were you?"

Jackson shrugged. "Where do you want to go?"

Dally ran his fingers through his short, black hair. "Wherever. You know the grounds better than I do. Somewhere shady. It's hot."

He couldn't take Dally down by the creek because it would lead him to the treehouse. Jackson jerked his chin toward Rose's father's cottage and the western edge of the grounds.

"The woods behind Bill's cottage will probably be nice and cool," he said.

Dally got to his feet and dusted off his light slacks. "As long as there are no bears." He paused. "Are there bears around here?"

Jackson grinned. "Sure, but they're more afraid of you than you are of them."

Dally descended the stone steps and shot Jackson a look of distrust. "I swear to God, Jackson, if we see a bear—"

"No bears, Dally. I ran wild through the mountains of Dogwood for literal years, and I never once saw a bear. Come on."

Dally glanced at him over his lenses. "Was that when you were exploring with Rose?"

Jackson grunted in answer as he fell into step beside him.

They strode down the lane toward Bill's cottage, then veered off to the left where a ragged border of trees demarcated the manicured Creek House grounds from the unmaintained foliage of Crown land. As they slipped into the woods, the dense, unruly tree cover quickly blotted out most of the sun, leaving them in shade.

Jackson breathed deeply and let out a pleased sigh. Though he'd never spent much time in the woods with Rose, he'd always like the look of them. They were so natural and untouched, so different from his home in the city. Something about the forest suited him. He liked the smell of pine needles and moss and damp earth.

There were no walking trails, though, so he made a path with Dally parallel to the treeline. As much as he liked the wilds of Dogwood, he had no desire to get lost in them.

"You didn't say there would be mosquitoes," said Dally, slapping at bugs.

Jackson chuckled. "They do enjoy the shade. You sure you're up for this?"

Dally grimaced and scratched at his neck. "Yes. I'm fine." He stepped carefully beside Jackson. "I just wanted to talk. I've barely seen you all week."

Jackson trailed his fingers along the prickly branches of a spruce as he passed. "I've been busy."

"Doing?"

"Nothing." Jackson grinned. "You'd be surprised how much time that takes up."

Dally shook his head and huffed a snort of laughter. "Okay, Jackson. Whatever you say." He was silent for a moment. "So, about that argument with Dad."

Jackson groaned.

Dally pressed on. "I overheard you shouting at him. Don't look at me that way. Your voice was raised, and I wasn't trying to eavesdrop. What's this promise you made to him?"

"It's nothing." Jackson rubbed the back of his neck. "A different shouting match. A long time ago."

"Something about Dogwood?"

Jackson grimaced.

"Or about Rose, maybe?"

Jackson sighed. "I can't talk about it."

"Why not?"

He stopped and turned to face his brother. "Because it affects you and Denny, all right? It affects all of us. And I'd rather not involve you when I can figure it out on my own."

"Why do you feel the need to figure it out on your own?"

"Is this twenty questions?" Jackson shot him an irritated look.

Dally returned his gaze levelly. "Look, I know Denman would have something flip to say about twenty questions, but he's not here, and I hate to break it to you, but I see through this secretive bullshit. Whatever it is you're carrying around, it's heavy, Jackson. I can tell. You don't need to carry it alone."

Jackson looked down at his feet and folded his arms as tears stung his eyes. Dally was right. It was a heavy burden, and he was so tired of shouldering it alone. He rubbed his face miserably.

"I never told you, because I knew what you would say," he mumbled.

"Try me."

Jackson hesitated. He knew he could trust Dally. That had never been in question. But he'd carried the secret for so long, he wasn't sure where to begin.

"That last summer here," he said haltingly, "Dad caught me kissing Rose."

Dally frowned. "So? That's not a big deal, right? You were sixteen. Old enough to kiss a girl."

Jackson shrugged. "Rose wasn't just any girl." He squeezed his eyes shut, and his words came out in a rush. "Dad told me not to see her again. He said if I did, he would keep us apart."

"You and Rose?"

"No. Me and you. And Denny. He gave me a choice. Rose or the family."

Dally's brows lowered. "I see." He paused, as though digesting Jackson's words. "And you chose us."

Jackson bit the inside of his lip and tried to suppress his misery. He didn't want Dally to think he regretted choosing his brothers.

Dally's lips compressed. "I always knew there was something up, some kernel of resentment for a reason I didn't understand. I knew you and Dad didn't get along, but I never understood why. It's because of this?"

"Yeah."

"Jackson, I'm so sorry. You must have hated me and Denman sometimes."

Jackson turned away and pressed his palms to his eyes. "No. Never. I don't know." He shuddered. "Maybe I resented you sometimes. Or I resented the choice I'd made. Rose and I were only sixteen. What should I have done?"

Dally put his hand on Jackson's shoulder. "You should have told us. We would have supported you."

"That's exactly why I didn't tell you. I knew you would stand with me, and you would have gotten in trouble too."

"But you love her."

Jackson's shoulders shook. "Yes." He scrubbed his hands through his hair. "Yes, I do. I can't hide it anymore. And it's all ruined. But maybe she's right to hate me. I was a coward."

"No," Dally said, his voice softening. "You weren't a coward. You were just a boy. A boy who should never have had to make such a decision."

Jackson doubled over and put his hands on his knees, letting his head fall forward. If he hadn't made that choice, his life could have turned out differently. It dizzied him to think just how different. Was that a good thing or a bad thing?

Dally rubbed his back comfortingly. "I'm sorry that happened to you, but you were a kid, Jackson. Dad had no right."

Jackson nodded, unable to speak.

His brother went on. "So, this is why you came back to Dogwood."

"Yes."

"And now Dad's here. What does this mean for your promise?"

"I don't know."

"Look at me." Dally guided him gently to a standing position. "You're old enough to make your own decisions, and Dad can't keep you from us now, no matter what he says. I know Denman will feel the same way. We're brothers. No one can take that from us."

Jackson's voice came out hoarse. "You think so?"

"I know so. I always knew you were unhappy, and I never could tell why." Dally's gaze softened. "I think it's because you need to follow what's in your heart."

Jackson blew out a heavy breath and looked up at the canopy of leaves overhead. "I tried, Dally. I thought if I failed at this little marriage scheme, he'd have to release me, and he'd do so without punishing you and Denny. But he knows about Rose. And he still doesn't approve."

"Then I think you need to stand up to him."

"It's not that easy. You know Dad."

Dally made a face. "I know. He's...larger than life. But if you want to marry Rose, you should marry Rose."

"I wish it were that simple, but I don't think she feels the same way about me. We barely know each other anymore."

Dally chuckled and adjusted his glasses. "Then you didn't see what I saw. Rose may have reservations, but the chemistry between you two is something else. You need each other."

"Do you really think so?" Jackson allowed himself to hope, but it only lasted a nanosecond. "Even if she did have feelings for me once, I don't think she'll forgive me now."

"Then that would be her loss."

Jackson eyed his brother wryly. "Because I'm such a great catch?"

Dally grinned. "Don't make me enumerate your many flaws, Jackson."

Jackson let out a breathless laugh. "Well, don't fall all over yourself to reassure me." His chuckles subsided. "Look at us having a heart to heart."

Dally slapped him on the back. "Right? We're a couple of romantics, if you ask me. Now come on, let's get out of here. I'm being eaten alive, and I'd like to go back to the house."

Jackson nodded and followed his brother. His thoughts turned to his predicament, and he worried his lip. It was easy for Dally to say he should just marry Rose. He wasn't the one who would lose everything. Jackson rubbed his temples. He wasn't sure what winning or losing meant anymore.

It quickly became clear that Dally had no idea where he was going. Jackson tapped him on the shoulder and jerked his head in the direction of the Creek House.

"Maybe you should follow me, Dally. Come on."

Dally chuckled. "Lead the way."