Now he sat on the edge of the bed and opened it again. Claire had written that she was afraid of leaving him alone, afraid Lily would grow up remembering only the sadness of the final months, and afraid Ethan would mistake loyalty for an obligation to remain unhappy. She told him to let their daughter see him laugh, to ask for help when he needed it, and to be brave enough to love the life still in front of him.
Ethan read the letter twice. He put it on the bedside table beside the photograph of their wedding, and for a long while he sat there with tears on his face. He was not grieving less because Victoria had entered his life. He was learning that grief could sit beside love without demanding that either one disappear.
The Cedar Ridge harvest celebration had been a small affair for as long as Ethan could remember. There were folding tables in the town square, a local band that played songs older than half its audience, and the annual competition for the largest pumpkin, an honor Walter Beckett had pursued unsuccessfully for fifteen years. That September, the celebration included something new: an announcement from the farm distribution association about the first season's results.
Amara refused to overstate the numbers. The participating farms had received better access to regional buyers and, in most cases, lower transportation costs than they would have paid individually. Some routes were still too expensive, the staging facility needed improvements, and the growers had more paperwork than anyone wanted. But the pilot had produced enough reliable shipments that Hayes Global and the association agreed to continue the partnership into the next season under revised terms.
The announcement meant more to Ethan than the modest applause suggested. He stood behind Lily in the town square, his hands on her shoulders, and watched Amara explain the results beside a display of produce from the participating farms. There were tomatoes, apples, late greens, jars of preserves, and bread from the bakery that bought flour through one of the local growers. None of it looked like the sort of thing that would change the world. Together, it represented families who could make plans with a little more confidence than they had the previous year.
Teresa Bell stood near the display with a folder of shipping schedules, enjoying a rare afternoon when nobody was calling her about a delayed truck. June had volunteered to manage the coffee stall and had already argued with three people over the correct way to set out creamers. Walter, who had entered a pumpkin the size of a small armchair, kept pretending he wasn't checking the judges' table every few minutes.
Victoria arrived without a press team. She wore a simple blue dress and flat shoes suitable for the uneven square, though Mara had insisted on arranging one discreet security person because public attention hadn't entirely disappeared. Richard came with her, carrying two folding chairs and an expression of satisfaction that Ethan recognized immediately as dangerous. He greeted Lily, bought a bag of cookies from the school fundraiser, and then sought Ethan out beside the stage.