Lizzy felt numb as she walked back up the rise to join Rhanna, her arms folded tight to her body. “We need to stay clear while they work. He said it won’t take long.”

Rhanna sank down onto the grass, sitting cross-legged. Lizzy sat beside her, knees hugged to her chest, watching as the men slowly circled the barn.

“I still can’t believe it,” Rhanna said, shaking her head. “It’s just so horrible.”

“I’m sorry. I know how much you loved that mural.”

Rhanna’s head snapped around. “I wasn’t talking about the mural. I was talking about you—about what almost happened. What on earth were you doing in the barn anyway?”

Lizzy thought of the Earth Song, so close to completion—lost now. There wouldn’t be time to re-create it before she left, so there really wasn’t any point in keeping it a secret. “I was making perfume.”

Rhanna’s eyes widened. “You were not.”

“The Earth Song you used to like—I was trying to re-create it. I wanted to surprise you with it before I left.”

“Oh, baby. What a lovely thing to do.”

She shrugged. “It’s gone now. The fire . . .”

“No,” Rhanna said, catching Lizzy’s hand and holding it tight. “Don’t you dare. You’re here. I’m here. That’s all that matters. Just knowing you wanted to do that . . .” She glanced down at their entwined hands and smiled. “I’ve been trying to figure it out since I’ve been back. Why I’m here, after the way things went down, all the messes I made. I thought it was to pay my dues, you know, like a penance. Now I know it wasn’t that at all. I came back for you, Lizzy. I came back here to learn how to be your mother.” She paused, smiling wistfully. “I know. My timing stinks. I’m about thirty-six years too late. But I’ll always be grateful for these weeks with you.”

Lizzy felt something let go in her chest as she met Rhanna’s gaze, a bloom of emotion unfurling like petals under a warm sun. They’d come a long way in only a few short weeks, unpacking years of baggage, opening old wounds. Rhanna had laid herself open, owned her mistakes, and paid her penance. But what about her own wounds? A lifetime of resentment and blame, the ache of abandonment she’d never allowed herself to admit. Perhaps it was she who’d had the longer road to travel.

She laid a hand on Rhanna’s arm, tentative about risking the unsolicited contact. “When you showed up . . . I was horrid to you. I didn’t want you here because I didn’t want to admit that it hurt that you never wanted me. I’d spent too many years pretending not to care to just let it all go. Growing up, I used to hope that one day you’d learn to like me, that we’d finally be a family, but you never did. Then you took off, and that was that. I guess I was trying to punish you. Now I understand why you did what you did, and I’m glad you came back, glad we had this chance to reconnect.”

The bulldozer cranked up again, and they fell silent.

Lizzy raised a hand to block the sun, her throat constricting as the dozer moved in for its first pass, then backed up, repositioned, and advanced again. The fresh gouge in the earth left a hollow in the pit of her stomach. Time marched on, it seemed, even in Salem Creek.

Thirty minutes later, the remains of the barn had been reduced to a heap of charred timber, and the dozer was gone. Rhanna plucked several blades of grass and began to braid them together. “You’re leaving soon, aren’t you?”

Lizzy wasn’t surprised by the question. There’d been a sense of finality in the air all morning. Apparently, Rhanna felt it too. “Yes.”

“When?”

“A day or two.”

Rhanna’s face fell. “That soon?”

“I called Luc to let him know things were wrapping up. Andrew helped me line up a roofer and an electrician, and Billy Church emailed me the listing contract first thing this morning. Thanks for calling in that favor, by the way. You and Evvie are welcome to stay until the farm sells. That’ll give you time to make plans. There’ll be some insurance money from the fire. Not much, but that and the loan money should keep you afloat until we find a buyer.”

“You’re really going to do it,” Rhanna said quietly.

“You thought I wasn’t?”

Rhanna lifted a shoulder. “I guess I hoped you’d have a change of heart, that we’d reopen the shop and run it together. I thought you and Andrew might . . .”

“Live happily ever after?”

Rhanna smiled sheepishly. “Something like that, yeah. I was surprised that he left for Boston without saying goodbye.”

“We already said our goodbyes.”

“When? I didn’t see him.”

Lizzy blew out a breath. She’d been hoping to avoid this conversation. “The night of the break-in—when I wound up at Andrew’s—we spent the night together.”

“Oh, Lizzy . . .”

“The next morning I realized I’d made a mistake, and I slammed on the brakes. It wasn’t fair to let him think we were ever going anywhere. I was trying to make things easier.”

“Easier for who? The man’s in love with you. And unless I miss my guess, you’re in love with him too. How is any of that a mistake?”

“It just is,” Lizzy shot back. “This isn’t an episode of Bewitched. The happily-ever-after thing—the honeymoon, the kids, the Disney vacations—that’s for other people. Normal people. And we both know that’s not who we are. Andrew knows it too.”

Rhanna stared at her. “You told him . . . about us?”

“I didn’t have to tell him. He knew. He’s always known, apparently. He swears it doesn’t matter, and I think he even believes it. But eventually it will matter. He deserves the kind of life I could never give him.”

Rhanna shook her head slowly. “Peter, Paul, and Mary. I knew you were stubborn, but I never realized you were stupid. You have a shot at something amazing, and you’re just going to walk away? Because of some moldy old family tradition? Or because it might be messy? Times change, Lizzy. Even for people like us. The days of the solitary crone ended a century ago. There’s no reason we can’t have someone in our lives if we want to.”

Lizzy threw a pointed glance at Rhanna’s left hand. “I don’t see a ring on your finger.”

“No,” Rhanna said softly. “You don’t. I missed my window. But don’t think for a minute that if I ever have the chance you have right now, I won’t grab it with both hands. To have a man look at me the way Andrew looks at you? A man willing to take me on, in spite of my bizarre family baggage? You bet your sweet ass I would. Because I’d know how lucky I was, and just how rare a man like that is.”

“You don’t think I know what I’m walking away from? Of course I know. But there’s more to it than that. There’s my job, and this town—”

Rhanna caught Lizzy by the sleeve, cutting her off. “Lizzy, honey, this is your chance. He’s your chance. And the rest of it’s just crap.”

Lizzy bit her tongue, unwilling to test their fledgling truce. It was easy for Rhanna. Until three weeks ago, she’d never committed to anything in her life, and especially not a man. She had no idea what it meant to risk her heart and lose. Come to that, neither had she. Until now.

She pulled free of Rhanna’s grasp and stood. “I’m sorry. I need to get back. I still have things to pack.”

She was halfway down the rise when she heard Rhanna call after her. “You’re allowed to be happy, Lizzy.”

Back at the house, Lizzy was greeted by the aroma of white sage smoke. She found Evvie in the parlor, a smoldering sage bundle in one hand, a saucer of spent ashes in the other.

“Thought it was time to give the place a good clean,” she said, wafting white smoke up into the corners. “I did the upstairs first, and made sure all the windows were open. Let all the bad juju out.”

Lizzy forced a smile, recalling their first meeting, face-to-face in this very room, the prickly words and hard glances. She would miss Evvie. Her gruff wisdom and fierce loyalty. Her homegrown honey and Creole lullabies. She claimed to have plans for after the farm sold—for both herself and her bees—but thus far had kept those plans to herself. Perhaps she would return to Baton Rouge. Or head to Texas to be with her sister. Both were viable options. Still, it was hard to imagine her anywhere but the farm.

As far as Lizzy knew, Rhanna hadn’t made any plans for the future. Apparently she’d been holding out hope that Moon Girl Farm would remain in the family, and together they’d reopen the shop. She hoped their conversation had squelched any further thoughts in that direction.

“Where’s your mama?” Evvie inquired through a scrim of pale smoke.

“I left her up on the rise,” Lizzy said, not quite meeting her eyes. “I told her I’d be leaving in a few days.”

Evvie lowered her smudge stick and nodded mutely.

“I know you wanted this to end differently, Evvie. And for a while I think I lost sight of the promises I made when I decided to come. But now I’ve done what I came to do, and it’s time to go back. I wish you’d tell me what you plan to do, so I know you’re going to be okay.”

“I’m a grown woman. I’ll be fine.”

“Yes, all right. But I can’t help worrying. Will your car even make it to Texas?”

Evvie blinked at her. “Who said anything about Texas?”