Farley stared. “But… the land should go to Lil, by rights.”

“Don’t be an ass, Farley,” Lil said.

“I… I don’t know what to say or how to say it.”

“It’s something you’ll want to talk to your bride about,” Joe told him. “The land’s yours if you decide you want it. And no hard feelings if you decide you don’t.”

“The bride has something to say.” Tansy rose, went first to Joe, then Jenna, to kiss them both. “Thank you. You’ve treated me like family since Lil and I were roommates in college. Now I am family. I can’t think of anything I’d like more than to have a home here near you, near Lil.” She beamed over at Farley. “I’m the luckiest woman in the world.”

“I’d say that’s settled.” Joe reached up to close his hand over the one Tansy had on his shoulder. “First chance we get, we’ll go scout out that acreage.”

Too overcome to speak, Farley only nodded. He cleared his throat. “I’m just gonna…” He rose, slipped into the kitchen.

“Now we’ve got something interesting to talk about.” Sam rubbed his hands together. “We’ve got a house to build.”

Jenna exchanged a look with Tansy as she got up and followed Farley.

He’d gone straight through and stood on the porch, his hands braced on the rail. The rain Lil had scented that morning pattered the ground, soaked the fields waiting for plowing. He straightened when Jenna laid a hand on his back, then turned and hugged her hard. Hard.

“Ma.”

She made a little sound, weepy pleasure, as she pressed him close. He rarely called her that, and usually with a kind of joking tone when he did. But now that single word said everything. “My sweet boy.”

“I don’t know what to do with all this happy. You used to say ‘Find your happy, Farley, and hold on to it.’ Now I’ve got so much I can’t hold it all. I don’t know how to thank you.”

“You just did. Best thanks going.”

“When I was a boy they said I’d never have anything, never amount to anything, never be anything. It was easy to believe them. It was harder to believe what you and Joe told me. Kept telling me. I could be whatever I wanted. I could have whatever I could earn. But you made me believe it.”

“Tansy said she’s the luckiest woman in the world, and she’s pretty damn lucky. But I’m running neck-and-neck. I have both my kids close by. I can watch them make their lives. And I get to plan a wedding.” She drew back, patted his cheeks. “I’m going to be such a pain in the ass.”

His grin came back. “I’m looking forward to it.”

“You say that now. Wait until I’m nagging you brainless. Are you ready to go back? If you’re out here too long Sam and Joe will have designed your house before you get a chance to say whoa.”

“Right now?” He swung an arm around her shoulders. “I’m ready for anything.”

26

Wicked, windy thunderstorms pounded through the night, hammered into the morning. Then it got nasty.

The first rattle of hail spat out like pea gravel, bouncing on the paths, chattering on the rooftops. Well-versed in spring weather, Lil ordered all vehicles that could fit under cover. She maneuvered her own truck through the mud as the golf balls began to ping.

The animals had enough sense to take shelter, but she watched some of the interns racing around, laughing, scooping up handfuls of hail to toss. As if it were a party, she thought, and the slashes of lightning cracking the black sky were just an elaborate light show.

She shook her head as she caught sight of Eric juggling three balls of hail, like a street performer while the cannon fire of thunder boomed.

Someone, she thought, was going to get beaned.

She cursed as a clump the size of a healthy peach slammed into the hood of her truck. Even as she squeezed the truck under the overhang on the storage shed she snarled at the new dent.

Not laughing now, she noted, as interns scrambled for the nearest shelter. There would be more dents and dings, she knew. Shredded plantings and an unholy mess of ice to scrape and shovel. But for now, she was warm and dry and opted to wait it out in the truck.

Until she saw a softball of ice wing into the back of one of the running interns, and pitch her forward into the mud.

“Crap.”

Lil was out and sprinting even as a couple of her other kids rushed to pick up the fallen.

“Get her inside. Inside!” It was like being pelted by an angry baseball team.

She grabbed the girl, half dragged, half carried her to the porch of her own cabin. They arrived wet and filthy, with the girl pale as the ice that battered the compound.

“Are you hurt?”

The girl shook her head, and wheezing, braced her hands on her knees. “Knocked the wind out of me.”

“I bet.” Lil flipped through the jumbled data in her brain to find names for the two of the new crop of interns while thunder roared over the hills like stalking lions. “Just relax. Reed, go in and get Lena some water. Wipe your feet,” she added. For all the good it would do.

“It happened so fast.” Lena shivered, and her eyes stared out of a face smeared with mud. “It was just like little ice chips, then ping-pong balls. And then…”

“Welcome to South Dakota. We’ll have Matt take a look at you. Are you sure you’re not hurt?”

“Um. No. Just sort of… wowed. Thanks, Reed.” She took the water bottle, drank deep. “Scared me. And still.” She looked past Lil to where the ice balls hammered the ground, and a vicious pitchfork of lightning hurled out of the clouds. “Weirdly cool.”

“Remember that when we’re cleaning up. The hail won’t last long.” Already slowing, Lil judged. “Storm’s tracking west now.”

“Really?” Lena blinked at her. “You can tell?”

“The wind’s carrying it. You can use my shower. I’ll lend you some clothes. When it’s over, the rest of you report to the cabin. There’ll be plenty to do. Come on, Lena.”

She took the girl upstairs, gestured toward the bathroom. “You can toss out your clothes. I’ll throw them in the wash.”

“I’m sorry to be so much trouble. Taking a header in a hailstorm wasn’t the way I wanted you to notice me.”