Chapter 2
I reached the stage before the applause ended.
Evan stepped away from the microphone. "Mara."
The warning in his voice was quiet enough that only I heard it.
I held out my hand.
He stared at it.
"If I agreed to sell," I said, "you shouldn't be afraid to let me speak."
The last few claps died behind me. Sloane's smile remained in place, but her fingers tightened around the stem of her glass. Evan had two choices: refuse me in front of the entire town or surrender the microphone.
He handed it over.
The metal felt cold against my palm.
"My husband left out one detail," I said.
A few people shifted in their chairs. On the screen behind me, the glass-walled version of my father's barn glowed beneath an artificial sunset.
"The Bennett farm belongs to me. It was left to me by my father, and Evan has never owned it."
Evan moved closer. "Mara, this isn't the time."
I turned toward him. "Did I sign a sales agreement?"
His jaw hardened.
I faced the audience again.
"I have not agreed to sell my farm. I have not agreed to let Mercer Development use its image, and I certainly have not agreed to host their wedding in my barn."
A murmur traveled through the ballroom.
Sloane put down her champagne and reached for the presentation remote. The screen went black, erasing the golden lights, the glass walls, and the wedding announcement. For the first time that night, she wasn't smiling.
"Of course we'll correct any misunderstanding," she said.
"A misunderstanding doesn't come with a wedding venue and a date."
Someone near the back gave a startled laugh. Evan's face darkened. I placed the microphone on its stand and walked off the stage before my hands could begin to shake. The cold hit me as soon as I pushed through the lodge doors.
Snow skated across the parking lot, thin and sharp as sand. I had almost reached my truck when Evan caught up with me.
"What the hell was that?" he demanded.
I turned so quickly my heel slipped on the ice. "You announced your engagement while we're still married, put her wedding in my barn, and you're asking what I did?"
"You humiliated her."
The words struck harder than they should have.
Not us. Not yourself.
Her.
"You told a room full of people that I agreed to sell."
"Because you will."
His certainty steadied me more than an apology would have.
"You don't know that."
"I know exactly what the farm costs." He lowered his voice. "I know what winter does to your bookings. I know how much longer you can keep pretending everything is fine."
A gust lifted snow between us. I pulled my coat closed.
Evan watched the movement.
Then I understood why Sloane had looked so calm.
"What did you tell her?"
He glanced back at the glowing lodge windows.
"What did you tell her about my farm?"
"Enough for her to understand the situation."
The cold seemed to move beneath my skin. Those were not public numbers. They were the private fears I had confessed at our kitchen table, late at night, when he was still the person I trusted most.
"You gave her my financial information."
"I gave the project the information it needed."
"She's your mistress, Evan. Not the project."
His expression hardened. "Call her whatever makes this easier for you. It won't change the numbers."
For the first time, I heard what he wasn't saying. He wasn't worried that I would refuse. He was waiting for my refusal to stop mattering.
"You think you can force me."
"No." Evan looked toward the dark road leading back to my farm. "We don't have to force you."
Snow gathered on his shoulders as he stepped away.
"We only have to wait until you can't pay the next bill."