Really laughed.
Not the small polite sound from before.
It changed her entire face.
Ethan understood Lily’s future question before Lily ever asked it.
Victoria Hayes looked like a different person when she smiled.
She stayed twenty minutes.
Mostly standing to one side while Ethan finished the repair.
They talked about Richard.
About Cedar Ridge.
About the farm.
Not about marriage.
When she left, Victoria shook Ethan’s hand.
“Thank you for not making this more humiliating.”
“I think your father handled that part.”
“I’ll tell him you said so.”
“Please do.”
The SUV drove away.
Ethan watched the dust settle.
Then returned to work.
He assumed he would never see Victoria Hayes again.
He was wrong.
Five days later, she came back.
This time she drove herself.
A gray sedan pulled into the farmyard shortly after four.
Ethan was stacking feed bags inside the barn when Lily ran toward him.
“Daddy! Fancy lady!”
Ethan closed his eyes.
“Lily.”
“What?”
“You can’t call people that.”
“She is fancy.”
“Still.”
Victoria stepped out wearing jeans, ankle boots, and a dark blue sweater.
Ethan looked at her clothes.
She noticed.
“What?”
“No cream suit.”
“I learn quickly.”
Lily stopped six feet away and stared.
Victoria seemed far less comfortable facing a seven-year-old than she had facing Ethan.
“Hello.”
Lily tilted her head.
“Are you famous?”
Victoria looked at Ethan.
He shrugged.
“Answer the witness.”
“I’m not sure.”
“My teacher says if your picture is on magazines, you’re famous.”
“Then possibly.”
Lily considered this.
“Do you know Taylor Swift?”
“No.”
“Then maybe not very famous.”
Ethan bit the inside of his cheek.
Victoria nodded.
“That seems fair.”
She claimed she had returned because Hayes Global was evaluating regional agricultural investments and she wanted to understand local farming conditions.
Ethan did not believe her entirely.
But unlike their first meeting, the reason was not insulting.
He showed her the farm.
The fields.
The greenhouse.
The equipment shed.
The feed room.
He explained margins.
What fertilizer cost.
Why transportation mattered.
How small farmers lost money not necessarily because crops failed, but because they lacked the volume to negotiate good shipping contracts.
Victoria asked intelligent questions.
Not performative ones.
She wanted numbers.
Average acreage.
Crop mix.
Nearest distribution center.
Cold storage availability.
Seasonal labor.
Feed sourcing.
Fuel.
Ethan realized she was actually listening.
Lily followed them everywhere.
At the goat enclosure, Victoria made the mistake of leaning too close.
Mabel, their brown-and-white doe, reached through the fence and grabbed the end of her sweater.
Victoria froze.
“Ethan.”
He was laughing too hard to respond.