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Noah held out a piece of paper.
Beth stood and took it. “What’s this?” She skimmed it.
The deed. He’d deeded the lot to the camp. His parents’ lot.
Feels like letting go of their plans. Permanently.
It gutted her.
“Why would he do that?”
“Why do you think?” Noah asked.
Vivien’s hand wrapped around Beth’s. Squeezed.
Beth swiped tears from her face.
“Walter will be here soon. He’s going to run the camp until Jesse’s back. Sounds like August sometime.”
Courtney stood and wrapped her arm through Beth’s other arm. “How did you get Walter to come out of retirement?”
“I didn’t.” Noah looked toward the vacant trailer spot. “Grayson was more persuasive than I’d been. Walter couldn’t tell him no.”
Oh.
“So for now, back to business. I spoke with Nathan Decker, and I’m meeting him tomorrow morning to review the offers. It’ll close fast and then we’ll have the cash we need for the camp—plus a hefty cushion.”
Of course they would. That was the sacrifice he’d made.
Noah dug in his pocket. “He asked me to give you this.” He held out a small white box wrapped with a deep-green velvet ribbon.
Beth took it.
“I’ll…uh…leave you be. I told Walter I’d feed the horses tonight.” He grabbed the hay cart and disappeared out the back barn door.
“Oh, Beth,” Courtney said.
Beth stared at the box in her hand. Tugged the ribbon.
Let it fall.
Pressed her eyes closed for a moment, then lifted the lid from the box. A necklace with a jade horse. Perfect and unbroken.
And she wept.
eighteen
“You haveto let her go, Dad,” Dylan said. “You can’t hold on to her.”
Beth paused in Dad’s front doorway. Dylan stood at the kitchen peninsula, both arms outstretched, his hands on the countertop like it was a podium and he was giving a lecture. Dad sat in a chair facing him, his lunch untouched.
“What’s going on?” Beth stepped inside. Closed the door. “Let who go?”
Dylan pressed his lips together and his jaw flexed. He stood upright.
Dad blanched and stared at his meal. One she’d prepped for the Crock-Pot.
Neither one spoke. Beth walked to the end of the peninsula. “I’m not a child. What’s going on?”
