"Look at this," Richard said, taking in the crowded square. "A year ago everybody was telling me this valley was shrinking. Now there's a business arrangement people might actually be able to depend on."
"One season," Ethan cautioned. "We're happy with the start. We're not pretending it's solved every problem."
Richard nodded. "You sound exactly like my daughter when she's talking about something she wants to keep."
"I take that as a compliment."
They watched Victoria kneel beside Lily near the stage, listening as the girl explained an elaborate ribbon arrangement she'd made for the model barn. Lily had worn a new purple dress and was laughing so hard that she had to stop talking to catch her breath. Victoria laughed with her, one hand resting gently on the little girl's shoulder.
"You know," Richard said, "I was right."
Ethan sighed. "I was wondering how long you could go without saying that."
"About what?" Richard asked, clearly enjoying himself.
"I'm afraid you're going to tell me."
Richard nodded toward Victoria and Lily. "You needed each other."
Ethan studied the two of them. He thought of the first day by the gate, when he had been angry at the notion that a stranger could be sent to fill the space his wife had left. He thought of the destroyed barn, the cold kitchen after the storm, and Victoria asking what he actually needed instead of telling him what she could give. He thought of the many times she had listened when he said no, and of the birthday when she'd failed and returned to do better.
"Maybe you were right about that part," he said. "But not about how you went about it."
Richard chuckled. "I know. Victoria's reminded me at least once a month."
"You didn't make us into a family, Richard. We had to choose it."
The older man's smile faded into something more thoughtful. "That's fair, Ethan. You're right."
They stood together while the band began another song. Richard looked toward the stage, where Lily had convinced Victoria to join a children's game that involved balancing a beanbag on her head. For once, the retired businessman didn't seem to be calculating the meaning of the moment. He simply watched his daughter enjoy herself.
Later, after the speeches and contests, Ethan walked Victoria toward the old fountain near the square. It had been repaired the previous spring by volunteers, and the water caught the last of the sunlight in small flashes. Lily was with June at the baking table, negotiating for a second cookie under what June called very strict terms.
"I have something to ask you," Ethan said.
Victoria looked at him. "Should I be worried?"
"Probably. I've been thinking about it for a while."
He led her to a bench overlooking the square, the same bench where he and Claire had once sat after a harvest festival years before. He had chosen the place carefully, not to erase that memory but to let a new one exist beside it. Victoria sat, watching him search for words with more nervousness than she'd ever seen from him in a business meeting.