Page 70 of Hunter

“Rooms will be hard to come by at this point,” says Tanner. “All the seasonal workers got here a month ago, and we get thousands of tourists a day.”

“And the lodge is full,” McKenna adds, peeking at us over her shoulder. “It’s high season. But don’t worry! We’ll figure out something!”

I put my head on Hunter’s shoulder and let my eyes flutter closed. I don’t care where we end up tonight as long as it has a bed big enough for two; and since we managed to share a twin bed on the cruise ship once or twice, pretty much anywhere will work for us.

A second later I’m asleep, and two seconds after that, I wake up at the campground. The truck rolls to a stop in front of Tanner and McKenna’s place.

“Hey,” says Hunter, jostling me gently. “We’re here.”

I blink my tired, burning eyes, fighting to keep them open and look around.

“Come on,” he says. “Tanner has something to show us.”

He gets out of the truck, then helps me down. I’m so disoriented from my mini-nap, I still feel like I’m dreaming as we walk the path through the woods in the direction of Hunter’s future home.

“Where are we going?”

“It’s a surprise,” he tells me. “They won’t give me any details.”

“The house won’t be here for a few weeks, right?”

“That’s right,” he says.

We follow Tanner and McKenna down the woodland path, solar lights now installed on either side, a nice, new addition to our walk. As we approach the clearing, I can see fairy lights—white twinkle lights—through the trees.

“Wait. Did your house come early?”

“No,” he says. “No way. Let’s find out what’s going on.”

When we get to the concrete foundation, I understand why Tanner and McKenna were so cagey about accommodations in the car—there’s a wonderful surprise waiting for us. All of the Stewarts—Gran, Paw-Paw, Gary, Harper, Joe and baby Wren, Sawyer, Parker, and Reeve—are standing on Hunter’s concrete foundation, in front of the most beautiful tent I’ve ever seen.

More a luxury yurt than a mere tent, it’s at least ten feet tall and wrapped with two strings of fairy lights. The front flaps are open to show a lavishly decorated interior, complete with two easy chairs, a mini-fridge and a plush, queen-sized bed, covered with fuzzy blankets and velvet throw pillows in white, cream and gray. On one end table, there are flickering candles and on the other, a vase of wildflowers. It’s so beautiful, it looks like something straight out of a fairytale, and I gasp with surprise, touched by the incredible thoughtfulness of this family.

“It’s…so gorgeous,” I say, stopping in my tracks to admire Hunter’s and my temporary home. After I’ve drunk my fill, I slide my gaze to the left and look at the Stewart family’s faces, their smiles blurred by my tears. “You’reallso kind.”

“Welcome home!” cries Reeve, jumping off the foundation and running to me and her brother. She hugs us both together, then leans back to grin at us with sparkling eyes. “It was Harper’s idea, but Dad, Joe, Sawyer, Parker, and I helped. And then McKenna ordered stuff she knew you’d love, and she and Tanner decorated it. You can keep everything when the housegets here. We all chipped in! Think of all the stuff as your housewarming gift, Hunt.”

Hunter gulps, and his voice is wobbly with emotion when he grates out, “Thanks, everyone. I don’t know what to say. This is totally amazing.”

Harper steps forward with baby Wren asleep in a sling across her chest. Her smile is gentle and kind. “Welcome home, Isabella.”

“Th-thanks, Harper,” I say, trying to hold it together. These people are among the most loving and generous I’ve ever known. I don’t feel worthy of so much kindness. I don’t want to let them down now that they’ve offered it. “Thank you, everyone.”

The Stewarts climb down the concrete stairs, and we’re greeted and hugged one by one, amid tears and laughter. Gary, who’s been hiding a bottle of bubbly behind his back, cracks it open with a festivePOP!He takes a sip, then passes it around so we can all have a celebratory slug of the good stuff.

“I guess you two are probably pretty knackered,” he says as the bottle reaches us. “We’ll clear out and let you get some zzz’s.”

McKenna is the last to give me a hug—a big, bear hug that lasts a while and feels like a little bit of home-away-from-home.

“I’m so glad you decided to stay,” she tells me, pressing her forehead to mine.

“It’s just for the summer,” I remind her.

“I know,” she tells me, her smile fading a touch. “But I’m not going to think about that right now. I have you here for two whole months! I’m going to make the most of it!”

“Me too,” I tell her. “Love you, Ken.”

“Love you, Iz,” she responds. “See you tomorrow.”

---