Young ones.
Rows of them.
My knees suddenly felt unreliable.
“What is this?”
Marcus’s voice softened.
“The dream you gave up.”
I turned toward him.
He looked exhausted now.
Not guilty.
Not defensive.
Just scared.
“When my company finally received the hotel payment, I wanted to tell you immediately,” he said.
“Then why didn’t you?”
“Because I knew what you’d say.”
“You don’t know what I would say.”
“Yes, I do. You would’ve told me to rebuild the business first. Pay down debt. Keep a reserve. Be responsible.”
“Because that would have been responsible.”
“I did all of that.”
He pointed toward the farmhouse.
“And then I started looking.”
My eyes filled despite everything I had told myself.
“For what?”
“For this.”
Marcus swallowed.
“You gave up almost ten years of savings to keep my company alive. And you never once made me feel like I owed you for it.”
“You did owe me.”
“I know.”
His answer silenced me.
“I don’t mean financially. I mean I knew what that money represented.”
He looked toward the barn.
“You didn’t just give me dollars, Elena. You gave me the one thing you had been building for yourself since your twenties.”
My hand rose automatically toward the small gold pendant hanging at my neck.
It had belonged to my grandmother.
Marcus continued.
“So when the company turned around, I decided I wanted to replace what you’d lost.”
“By secretly spending money again?”
A faint, miserable smile crossed his face.
“When you say it like that, this plan sounds much worse.”
“It is much worse.”
“I realize that now.”
Camille and Tessa had followed us at a distance.
Camille stepped forward.
“For what it’s worth, I repeatedly told him surprising someone with real estate was insane.”
I looked at her.
“He insisted.”
Marcus sighed.
“Thank you, Camille.”
“You’re welcome.”
I almost laughed.
Almost.
Then another thought hit me.
“The LLC.”
Camille answered this time.
“I created the purchase entity while we negotiated because Marcus was worried the seller might recognize his business name. We also needed privacy while the title work was being completed.”
“Why?”
Marcus looked directly at me.
“Because the farm wasn’t supposed to belong to me.”
I stared at him.
Camille walked back toward her car.
A minute later she returned carrying a dark leather document case.
She opened it on the hood of Marcus’s truck.
