Goats and chickens? Jane shook her head. What was going on?

“Same thing,” Dax said. “The residents involved with the farm program will have experience. It will come back to them. They’ll tend the gardens and take care of the animals. But of course, we’ll hire someone to oversee everything.”

“The llama too?”

Okay, that was enough.

Jane stepped through the doorway. “Hi, guys.”

They all looked over. Ken looked relieved. “Hi, Jane.” He got to his feet quickly.

“I don’t want to interrupt,” she lied. She completely wanted to interrupt this meeting. She wanted to know what the hell was going on.

She looked at her dad, but Jack was just smiling at her much as he did whenever she came to visit. Maybe even a little brighter than usual.

Everything had been a little brighter this past week.

Because of Dax.

She felt that heavy, ropey stress knot pull tight in her stomach even as her heart fluttered a little. Everything really had been better because of him. It had been shockingly easy to fall under the everything-is-going-to-be-so-great spell.

She finally looked at Dax. He looked happy to see her too even if a touch sheepish around the edges.

Yeah, when had he been planning to tell her his big news anyway?

“You’re not interrupting. I clearly have some reading to do,” Ken said, skirting around her. “Come on in.”

Oh, she was going to come on in. She waited until Ken had disappeared into his office and then she shut the door. She crossed her arms and regarded the two most important men in her life. Who had been conspiring behind her back.

“So you two have been busy.”

Her father didn’t look the least bit sheepish. He grinned widely and picked up a paper from Dax’s desk. Dax’s desk. In Dax’s office. In the nursing home. Because he now owned the place.

She took a deep breath.

Jack waved the papers at her. “A f-farm!”

She shook her head. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“W-w-we’re going to h-have a f-f-f-” Jack looked at Dax.

“We’re going to have a farm,” Dax said. He smiled at her from behind the desk.

His desk. In his office. She couldn’t do that again. Every time she really thought about what she’d just learned, she got all worked up.

“How about we start at the beginning,” she said. Calmly. She was proud of herself. “I understand you bought Sunny Orchard.”

Dax nodded. “Yep. It was finalized yesterday.”

The guy moved amazingly fast. Then again, he had an amazing amount of money and a number of powerful contacts, she assumed, and hell, maybe the company that had owned the nursing home had been happy to let it go.

“Why?” she asked simply.

“Well, mostly because I wanted to start this farm, and in spite of my very generous donation of time, money, and knowledge, they said no.”

“So you just bought the whole place?” she asked, feeling her chest tightening. “Just so you could start a farm?”

“Not just any farm.”

Jack waved the papers he held again. Jane took them and scanned over them. “What is this?”

“It’s a program introduced in Europe and brought over here for dementia and Alzheimer’s patients,” Dax said. “It’s a working farm. The residents live there and take care of the garden and the small farm animals. It keeps them active physically and mentally because it taps into tasks they’ve done all their lives. It gives them a sense of purpose which also keeps them to be calmer. And it’s been studied and shown to actually slow some of the progression of the disease.” Dax glanced at Jack. “Jack and I were talking, and I talked to some therapists and physicians, and they agreed that even for patients whose memory isn’t affected, it would keep them active and productive and could help with things like depression and overall happiness. They would not only be participating in activities that are familiar, but by contributing things to the facility like vegetables and eggs and milk, they would feel important.”

Jack nodded, grinning widely, and Jane felt her heart trip.

“And we can go even further,” Dax went on. “We can get some of the residents into the kitchen, canning, and baking with some of our produce. Making salads. Egg dishes. And we’ve even talked about taking some things to the farmer’s market.”

Jane shook her head. He was… something. He was definitely a big thinker. It was hardly her fault she’d gotten all caught up in him and wanting to be near him and his energy and ability to take the simplest thing and make it more.

But this was her father. This was people's home. This was their life.

This wasn’t a game or a whim or a crazy idea that may or may not work out.

“So this is what you had Dad researching after the bridal fair?” she asked, looking at Jack.

Jack nodded, clearly pleased.

“Yep. I gave him the name of the care facility out in New Jersey that’s doing this now and asked him to find out everything he could.”

“You did that?” she asked her father.

Jack nodded. “U-used the c-c-computer.”

“Wow.”

“Jack’s farming experience has been really helpful,” Dax said, smiling at her dad. “I know you’re probably shocked to find out, but I don’t know much about it.”

She rolled her eyes but Jack laughed.

“You’ve been working on this a lot,” she said.

“It’s been a busy week,” Dax agreed. He was watching her now as if waiting for her to say more.

“It’s a pretty big secret to keep,” she said casually. Kind of.

She was sure Dax could see the tension in her face. Jack was studying the pages again and probably missed it, but Dax’s gaze was firmly fixed on hers.

“I was planning to surprise you on Saturday with everything,” he said. “We were.” He glanced at Jack.

Jack looked up with another big grin. She swore she hadn’t seen him this smiley in… too long. She felt her throat tighten. Damn Dax. He was getting Jack smiling. Which had been so great at the bridal fair. For that one afternoon. They could have done that again. Gone out somewhere. Taken him to a movie. Or hell, to a farm or a petting zoo or whatever if he was missing being around animals. They could have done the temporary make-things-good-for-right-now thing periodically to help with his depression.

Dax didn’t have to buy the whole fucking nursing home and promise Jack a pony. Which he really might have, for all she knew. She wouldn’t be at all surprised if there was something in the literature about how great horses were. She knew therapists used horses with little kids. Why would adults really be that different? And if Dax had read…

She sighed.

“G-g-goats!” Jack said.

She arched her eyebrows. “What?”

“Goats!” Jack said again, this time on the first try.

She looked at Dax. “What about goats?”

He laughed. “We were going to take you out to see the baby goats and then tell you all our plans.”

“L-l-l—” Jack tried.

Jane looked at Dax. “Do I even want to know what that is?”

He was completely unabashed when he said, “And the llama.”