“We can go over my estimates, see what you think,” I said. “I’ve been wanting Dad to have a look.” A farmer. From casino and hotel CEO to farming and ranching. “I don’t know what I’m doing.”
“You’ve got a helluva resource at your disposal.”
Dad.
I huffed out a laugh and considered the top of the table. The wood was glossy and it was filled with epoxy in a way that made it look like a river ran through the middle.
Did I want to farm? To work with the Baileys instead of for them? Teach my kids about the life, take them horseback riding, and show them where we remembered their grandma?
As long as I had Autumn, I didn’t give a shit about what I did. But getting Percival? This time, it felt right. These last few months had been an awakening. Farming and ranching were in my blood. Mom had passed on her love for the land, but Grandpa’s obsession about who owned what and why had been purged from me. I could just enjoy spending my days outside again. Paying attention to the land and the weather, deciding what equipment to buy, studying the market—it was more rewarding for me than making millions a year for someone else.
More than that was the chance to hang out with Dad again. I couldn’t forget the past, but I understood it now. I couldn’t wait to pass on my love for the land to my own kids. Only this time, I knew I could do it from anywhere. It didn’t have to be Percival. Though if it was...
Autumn was chewing her lower lip like she worried she’d overstepped. Home was with her. The rest was just logistics.
“You didn’t have to do this,” I said to her.
“My god, Gideon. Buy it. We’ll figure the rest out.”
My wife’s eyes were wide, shiny. My world was in that gaze. She wanted me to have it, so I’d buy it. For us. “All right. Get the paperwork ready.”
EPILOGUE
Autumn
The doorbell rang at Hank’s place. Gideon had the candy bucket and was already opening the door, his dad crowding behind him. They both scooted over so I could see the trick-or-treaters.
Hank was getting a kick out of tonight. This year, I’d told all the kids that they’d have to trick-or-treat at his place since Gideon and I lived at Percival Farms now. We’d remodeled the house over the summer and built an addition. The place was beautiful. Still his childhood home, but also ready for the future.
“What do we have here?” Hank said. He’d been delightedly talking to each kid about their costume. Tonight, he was making up for years of living in the country and missing out on trick-or-treaters.
“Mario!” Deon grinned. He was one of four boys, and he had a cardboard box decorated to look like a car fromMario Kart. The entire group of boys had coordinated their outfits. There was a Luigi, a Toad, and a Bowser.
Deon held out his blue tote bag. “Trick or treat, Mr. J.”
“Evenin’, Deon.” Gideon doled out the candy.
“No Princess Peach?” I asked the boys.
Deon rolled his eyes. “Caleb didn’t want to wear a dress.”
“It’s cold!” Toad—Caleb—argued.
“Why are you a chef, Mr. J?” Deon asked. The others peered around him, eyeing my costume and Gideon’s.
My husband wore a white puffy hat and an apron.
I grinned. At school, I had worn an apron not unlike Gideon’s. I’d used an old Amelia Bedelia costume of Scarlett’s. But for tonight, I told my students I had a big surprise with my costume. I’d been delighted when Gideon had asked whatwewere dressing up as this year.
I pointed to the image inside the viewing window of the oven costume. “Because I have a bun in the oven!”
I hadn’t told my students or coworkers yet that I was expecting. Our family knew and they were ecstatic, no one more so than Hank.
The boys chortled and a few rolled their eyes. I was glad none of them asked why that made Gideon the chef. Teaching them about batter and ovens wasn’t my job.
The kids rushed off. No more trick-or-treaters were running up the walk. Hank went to the kitchen, probably to fill his cup of decaf. Gideon closed the door and wrapped his arms around me.
“Happy Halloween, Mrs. J,” he murmured in my ear. “Guess what I found this morning when I was unpacking the boxes in the guest room?”
