“Thank you for coming today.” I offer another smile as I shake hands with an older couple I recognize from the State Fair committee.
“Oh, Regan, we know how much she loved you, dear,” the woman says gently.
I swallow hard, forcing back the lump in my throat. “I was the one who was blessed to know her.”
They nod kindly before drifting toward the gravesite which is a simple patch of freshly turned earth beside the pond, waiting for the tombstone I had custom made for her to be delivered. It felt right to have her laid to rest here next to her husband. No matter who ends up owning this land, I hope they respect their resting place.
A movement catches my eye, and I glance up to see Hayes walking toward me. His face is drawn, exhaustion settling deep into the lines around his eyes, but he still looks so handsome in those navy blue scrubs. And apparently, I’m not the only one who notices that. Practically every person gathered at the Mayberry home turns to watch him as he moves across the lawn, a few even whisper and point like he’s a local celebrity.
“Hi,” he says, voice soft as he leans down to press a gentle kiss to my cheek.
“Hi,” I murmur. “Thank you for coming today.”
He nods. “I know I didn’t know her well, but she was a spitfire. A kind woman. One I really enjoyed getting to know briefly.” His gaze flickers over my face, seeing straight through my attempt at composure. “And I know she loved you. I’m very sorry for your loss.”
I force a smile. “Thank you.”
He hesitates before offering, “I just got off shift… I can stay. Wait until everyone leaves, if you don’t want to be alone and want someone here for you.”
I glance around. Most people have moved away from the gravesite now. Molly, Lydia, and Rae are lingering by the swing, chatting quietly. Cash is already back at the hatchery, tending to the new chicks, and Colt’s likely buried in work at the distillery. Lawson’s still on the west coast, couldn’t make it home for the funeral, and my dad has already come and said his goodbyes.
“You really don’t have to do that,” I say, even though the idea of not being alone is more appealing than I want to admit.
He shrugs. “I’d like to. Maybe you can tell me more about her.”
I wipe at another stray tear, nodding. “I’d like that.”
A throat clears behind us causing Hayes and I to turn and find an older woman standing there, salt-and-pepper hair tucked neatly beneath a dark black hat.
“Excuse me. Are you Regan Marshall?”
I straighten instinctively, smoothing down my dress. “Yes?”
She offers a polite smile. “I’m Betsy Green. Mrs. Mayberry’s realtor.”
“Oh, hi, Betsy. I knew you looked familiar. I’ve seen your face on the billboards around town.”
She smiles and shifts her attention briefly to Hayes. “And hello, Mr. Walker. Good to see you again.”
He nods to her in greeting before she exhales deeply. “I’m glad I caught you both before you left today.”
I glance between her and Hayes, a creeping sense of unease settling over me.
“Oh?”
She hesitates, then meets my gaze.
“As you’re aware… Mrs. Mayberry never officially completed the sale of the farm.”
“Yes…”
“But what she likely didn’t disclose to you two is that she accepted both of your offers right before she passed away—with a contingency.”
I blink. “I’m sorry, what? What does that mean?”
Betsy smiles, all calm and collected, as if she hasn’t just dropped a bomb on us. “The contingency being that if you marry each other, you can jointly purchase the Manor. If you don’t, the property will go to the state since no other offers were received or accepted before her passing.”
I stare at her. Then at Hayes. Then back at her.
