Mom took it slowly, brow furrowing as she opened it. Her breath caught audibly and she pressed a hand to her mouth.
Dad leaned in. His shoulders stiffened. “Meri, what is this?”
“A bank draft,” Meri replied. “The remaining balance on the loan you owe to Collin.”
The room seemed to tilt again, though this time in an entirely different direction.
Jane blinked. “You mean…”
“All you need to do is deposit it, and pay him back in full,” Meri replied.
For a heartbeat, no one spoke.
Mom sank into the nearest chair like her knees had simply stopped obeying her.
“You can’t,” she whispered. “Meri, you can’t have—”
“I can,” Meri said gently. “And I did.”
Dad stared at the paper like it might rearrange itself into something else if he looked long enough. “How? How on earth do you have this much money?”
Meri shrugged, the gesture almost apologetic. “Years of saving. Living cheaply. Saying no to things. I really don’t buy much.”
Jane’s eyes filled instantly and she pulled a handkerchief out of her clutch, dabbing at her eyes. “You never said anything.”
“I didn’t want it to be a conversation,” Meri said. “I wanted it to be done.”
Mom stood abruptly and crossed the space between them, pulling Meri into a fierce hug. “I can’t believe this. You didn’t need to do this.”
Meri hugged her back just as tightly. “I did. I couldn’t let Collin keep dragging that loan over our heads. This is good for all of us.”
“We will pay you back,” Dad vowed.
“No you won’t. If you sell, then you can pay me, but as long as the inn is in the family, I don’t want to see a single dollar,” Meri fiercely replied before giving him a hug.
I felt tears sting my eyes before I could stop them. Relief crashed through me in a wave so strong I had to steady myself against the table.
The inn was safe.
The celebration that followed was less elegant than the gala had intended, but infinitely warmer. We hugged as our voices overlapped with happiness. Braxton produced champagne. Kitty nearly knocked over a centerpiece.
Ephram drifted closer during the chaos, and was handed a glass without ceremony by Dad , who clapped him on the shoulder like he had always been part of this family and was just late to dinner.
Ephram glanced at me then, something unspoken passing between us, and I knew he understood me.
Once the joy had settled down a little, I managed to get Ephram away from the group for a dance, followed by a private conversation near the windows, the crowd softened by distance and music. The snow fell steadily outside, the kind that made the world feel quiet.
“I like your family,” he said.
I smiled. “They’re loud.”
“They’re honest and welcoming,” he replied.
I considered that, then nodded. “We are that.”
We stood there for a moment, shoulder to shoulder, not touching but close enough that the space felt intentional rather than accidental.
“I meant what I said earlier,” Ephram added. “About wanting to see you.”
