“Right. Well. No. A barn is just a barn. Though, may I say, this is a particularly fantastic barn. Have you ever had weddings here?”

“No,” he said.

“You should. Weddings and parties and—”

“No.”

“You are the boringest man.”

“I thought we were letting go of personal things and getting on with business?”

“Well, I was, but then you started talking about the possibility of barns being something dirty. Which made me think of your—” don’t say anything dirty “—exasperating nature.”

“Just look at the barn.” He walked to the side door and released a wrought-iron latch, pushing it open, muscles in his thighs flexing, his biceps and forearms straining just enough to make everything in her tense up to match.

She stepped inside, the wood floor hollow-sounding beneath her feet, the expansive, empty section cleaner than most of her apartments had ever been. “Wow,” she said. “I’m serious, you could host events here. And you could charge lots of money for them.”

“It’s nothing special. Just a place to keep equipment and hay.”

“So...just a place to keep your entire livelihood? Yeah, you’re right. It’s not that special.”

“Well, it’s a serviceable barn. And it cost a hell of a lot of money. But the old one was run-down, and after we ended up with moldy hay one winter...it was pretty clear things had to change. After Dad died, we got a good chunk of change from his life insurance, and Kate and I gave our share to Connor to invest.”

“Well, he did it in a very serious way,” she said.

“Yeah, he did. But this place is our family legacy. Connor’s the keeper of it, sure, but when...when there’s another generation, I guess they’ll all have a part of it. Though I’m sort of skeptical about any of us managing another generation.”

“Okay,” she said. “You, sure, because...I can see that you’re not the open-your-home-up-to-chaos-and-crazy kind of guy. But Connor could find someone else.”

“He doesn’t want to. He seems to think cracking a smile’s some kind of hanging offense.”

“And Kate?”

“She’s a kid.”

“She has to be in her twenties.”

“Twenty-one,” he said. “She’s way too damn young to be thinking about that stuff.”

“Well, I agree on one level. A husband and kids? No way. Not at her age. But I assume she’s dating and otherwise showing a normal interest in that sort of thing.”

“Uh...not so much.”

“Oh.” Sadie’s face heated, embarrassment washing through her. “Sorry, I was making assumptions. I should have said partner.”

“What? Why?”

“Oh, just the way you said that I thought maybe I’d made a very broad assumption about her sexuality, is all.”

He winced. “Can we please not talk about sexuality and my sister in the same sentence?”

“I just meant, if she’s a lesbian I have no problem with that and I would hate for it to seem like I was passing judgm—”

“She’s not,” he said. “Considering the number of times I found torn-out magazine pages of...what’s his name? Zac Efron?”

Sadie laughed. “Okay, but you realize that’s an indication that she does have a sexuality.”

“I refuse to have this discussion.”

“All I’m saying is, don’t give up on the next generation yet. You’re such a cliché,” she said, shaking her head and laughing.

“Maybe,” he said. “But I sort of raised her from the time she was two years old, so I reserve the right to be a little insane.”

The admission hit her somewhere around the heart. Which made her very uncomfortable. “Oh. Right. I wasn’t...thinking.”

“Our mom left before Kate turned two. Dad might as well have left. Someone had to work, someone had to take care of the baby. Connor and I were an old married couple before we could drive.”

“Eli...”

“Hey, look, I’m over it.” Except he so obviously wasn’t. He wore it as sure as he wore his uniform. His need for order. His need for control. “But the thing is...I think that’s why this place means so much. And why I’m an overprotective crazy person. Because it was all down to Connor and me. And when you have that much responsibility that early, it becomes a part of you in a way it never would otherwise.”

She turned and looked at the barn, at the care that had so clearly gone into it. Evidence of money that could have taken them away from here. That could have taken the Garrett family on to other things. College, maybe. Had any of them gone? Kate was twenty-one and working, so she clearly wasn’t in school.

They had given their all for this place. To hold it together. Because it was what they’d done all of their lives and it was what they continued to do.

For a woman who hadn’t lived in one place for more than a couple of years, it was a level of commitment that was...hideously daunting. It was sticking something out through thick and thin, rain and shine. Old barns and new.

It was choosing to keep on staying even when there was an out. And suddenly all that history, all that intensity, made it feel as though the walls were closing in.

And you’re here for five years.

“Wow,” she said, taking a deep breath. “Anyway, this is great. I mean, if we could do tables, lots of tables in and around here, that would be...excellent. Just so very excellent.” She started to walk back out, quickly, trying to escape the weird, oppressive weight that had settled onto her stomach.

“I’ll have to clear it with Connor. Farmwork getting done is going to be the top priority. But I think we can arrange to have the field just over here cleared for parking, which should make things easy. It’ll all have to be roped off and...well, it’s going to be a big deal.”

“I know,” she said. “But the city is willing to kick in for some funds. And I think I might be able to entice some vendors. Local beers, wines, cheese. And you know, if you wanted to kick in some beef, I think it could end up being really great for the business side of the ranch.”

“Again, I’ll talk to Connor about it. I may need to get him drunk first.”

“He doesn’t have to hang out if people...bother him.”

“Everything bothers him. To be honest, I’m not sure if he’d be any more miserable in a crowded bar than he is alone.”

“I’m sad for him. Your brother seems like a nice guy.”

“No, he doesn’t.”

Really, he didn’t. But she’d been searching for something to say and the blanket, insincere words had rolled off her tongue easily. “Fine. He doesn’t seem that nice. But I’m still sorry for him.”