Her mother gasped. “Claire!”
Meredith smiled as people laughed, but I caught the tiniest wince behind it. “No, Miss Dupré,” she said. “No bun in the oven.”
“We can’t afford a kid,” Wit joked, slipping his hand into Meredith’s and squeezing it. “We’ve sunk our savings into this house.” He gestured to the cottage. “Which we’vefinallythought of a name for…”
Too many people spoke at once, suggesting that this had been a Farm topic of conversation all summer. “Wave Watcher!” someone shouted.
“The Beachcomber’s Bungalow!”
“Plover House!”
“Wit’s End!”
“We appreciate all your suggestions,” Meredith said, “but ultimately settled on one of our own.” She grinned. “Drumroll, please!”
Her grandfather pulled off the perfect drumroll.
“Introducing,” Wit said, “in late September…”
“Clair de Lune Cottage!” he and Meredith chorused.
Moonlight, I translated from the French.Moonlight Cottage.
And while that meant nothing to me, I could tell it meant everything to them. Their family and friends were excited too.
“We should get them some fudge,” I whispered to Connor. They’d been so nice to us.
“We should,” he whispered back. “For them and for us.”
* * *
A few lanterns were switched on after the sun had set, but the stars and moon were bright and guided the tractor back the way it’d come. “Thank you for riding along with us,” Wit said at each drop-off point. “Tips are not necessary but much appreciated…”
Meredith hopped off the Oystercatcher at the Annex, and Connor moved to follow her—he’d whispered that he had one more surprise for me—but I found myself frozen in place. My pulse picked up, not ready to leave this moment—the tractor—yet.
What more do you want?the voice inside my head asked.You found it, isn’t that enough? You know Annie was here.
Did I have confirmation?
Everything but. I hadn’t had the guts to talk to Meredith’s grandfather before he’d disembarked at the Big House. He’d winked at Connor and me once during the ride. “Having fun?” he asked us, and I only mustered a smile and nod. Maybe I was afraid he wouldn’t remember Annie, or I was scared that he’d broken her heart.
“Where does the tractor live?” I asked Wit now, as if the John Deere were a living, breathing thing.
“The barn,” he told me, scratching his ankle. Someone had forgotten bug spray. “It’s not far, if you want to check it out.”
I looked at Connor, who looked at me—and that was all it took. One look. I didn’t need to open my mouth and explain. “Keep rolling, Witry,” he said. “We’ve heard the lore behind Paqua’s barns.”
My lips tipped up in a smile. I’d told Connor about the Fourthof July legend: the Brothers Fox accidentally burning down one of the barns during their fireworks show. Their parents had been so pissed they gave the Fourth of July to the Carmichaels.
Wit chuckled. “Copy that, McCallister.”
He shifted the tractor’s gear stick, and we rolled forward again. I couldn’t help but shiver when we disappeared under a canopy of branches that shielded the road from the sky. Branches snapped and critters scuttled. It was alsodark.
“Scared?” Connor teased.
“No.” I shook my head, even though I couldn’t imagine being out here alone. “You?”
“Terrified.”
