Right. She could do that. Probably.
Maybe they could get past it.
But she knew in her heart, some things, once uprooted, never took root again.
The next morning, she had scoured every clause in the compliance manuals. Every environmental impact addendum and property stewardship appendix. She’d texted her neighbor, Ruby, in the middle of the night, asking for screenshots of the older editions, hoping there was some buried language—something grandfathered in—that would give the Hales immunity.
But she came up empty.
She sat with her back pressed against one of the older trees, knees drawn up to her chest. The rough bark bit through her shirt as she stared at the blank computer screen, trying to figure out how to tell him.
She’d submitted her report but felt none of the satisfaction of a job done well.
A crunch of boots on dry grass announced his arrival before she saw him. “Working?” he asked.
She lifted her face and blinked against the sun behind him. “Actually, I’m all done.”
He sank down beside her, stretching his long legs out in front of him. “So, what’s the verdict?”
Honey looked at him.
He’d changed since she’d arrived. The weight on his shoulders had shifted. The lines bracketing his mouth weren’t carved so deep. Even with the orchard busier than ever—her new plans in full swing—he was finding his rhythm. He had morning chore charts taped to the fridge,breakfast casseroles lined up in the freezer, and jobs handed off to the Fritches without a fight.
Little signs of a man who believed there might be breathing room ahead.
If it weren’t for the one thing she couldn’t take back, she might have been proud of that.
“The well’s marked for closure,” she said quietly.
Ethan exhaled. “Oh.” For a moment, his whole face sagged. Then he caught himself and nodded. “Well. I guess that’s good. A little weird, but…good, I think.”
When she didn’t say anything, he bumped her shoulder with his. “You okay?”
“All’s as it should be,” she said with a bitter laugh.
But it wasn’t. It wasn’t, and it would never be.
“About the review Monday,” Honey began, her voice a notch too high.
He waved it off before she could finish. “Don’t worry about it. I did some research. I don’t think there’s any problem now that the well’s closed. I even pulled the old site diagrams and put together a timeline”—he pulled a rolled up stack of papers from his back pocket—“just to show them we’re cooperating. They like that, right? Documentation?”
Honey’s heart gave a tug. Oh, Ethan. At one point she would have loved this but now…
She reached for the words with care. “The review isn’t about the well.” She folded her hands in her lap. “And there’s no beating it.”
He frowned. “What do you mean?”
“It’s about the whole orchard now,” she said gently. “Or rather what’s beneath it.”
His brow furrowed deeper. “You mean the ley lines.”
“You knew about them?”
“Of course. But it’s never been a problem. Other than not keeping the well up to date, we haven’t violated anything.”
She hesitated. Then breathed in deep.
“Because I flagged an anomaly in my first report. I didn’t know what it would trigger. I thought it was a small note. But it pushed the property into fast-track review.”
