Page 13 of Hometown Girl

“Look, I know what you’re thinking,” Molly said.

“Oh, do you?” Beth hoped not.

“Yes, you’re calculating all the reasons this is a bad idea. But just promise me you’ll sleep on it for one night. Isn’t that what Dad taught us to do? Sleep on every big decision?”

“Did you sleep on this one? Did you pray about buying a run-down farm?”

“Yes, actually, I did.” Molly stared off into the distance. “In my own way.”

Beth stuck her hands on her hips and studied her own feet, her sensible pair of shoes.

“It’s different this time, Beth. I promise.” Molly’s eyes begged. “Just spend one night thinking about it, please?”

How could she say no?

“One night. If my answer doesn’t change—and I don’t think it will—then I’ll try to find a way to help you get out of this deal.”

Molly frowned. “I don’t want out, Beth. If you decide not to do this with me, I’m going to do it on my own.”

The words, spoken with such conviction, worried Beth. What if this was the one time Molly stuck with a project so long she didn’t give herself an exit strategy? And worse, what if there was no one there to bail her out this time?

How would their mother respond if Beth didn’t jump in and save her then?

Chapter Four

Whitaker family meetings were reserved for important family events. Dad’s will. Mom’s care. Their trusts. They weren’t typically called to discuss individual life events, but the day after Molly had summoned her to Fairwind Farm, Beth decided to call their oldest brother, Ben, to get everything out in the open.

Ben rarely made it back to Willow Grove. After his career in professional baseball had ended, he’d made a life in the city—and he didn’t like the attention he got when he was home. But this was an emergency, and Beth needed his support.

“Is it too much to hope you’ve called this meeting to tell me you’re in on my new plan?” Molly’s eyes practically sparkled with expectation.

“I told you it wasn’t likely I’d change my mind.” Beth pulled two cans of beans from the cupboard.

Molly stared at her sister. “Why do I feel like you tattled on me?”

“I didn’t tattle, Molly. I just thought it would be good to have Ben’s input.”

“And mine.” Their mom sat at the table with an afghan over her legs, knitting another scarf. As if the fourteen in the other room weren’t enough.

“I’m getting a head start on Christmas,” Lilian had said when Beth noted the pile of scarves she’d amassed these last few months. Beth was pretty sure her mother didn’t know fourteen people who would wear a hand-knitted scarf, but Beth wasn’t going to be the one to tell her.

“What’s the big deal? We haven’t all been together in weeks. It’ll be good to catch up.” Beth knew they would all see through her excuse, but she pretended the words were satisfactory.

“How’d she even get you here, Ben?” Molly popped an olive into her mouth.

“She promised me a home-cooked meal.” He leaned against the counter, arms folded midtorso.

“You don’t look like you’ve been starving lately.” Molly dunked a baby carrot in the dip and crunched it in half. She was right. Their brother had always looked like he’d stepped out of a Calvin Klein ad, but he looked older and more filled out now.

“Ben, can you go start the grill?” Beth pulled five burger patties from the refrigerator.

“You never said I was going to have to cook the meal.” He didn’t move.

Dad had always manned the grill.

Silence hung in the air, as if they’d all remembered at the same time. Ben gave one quick nod, then strode through the kitchen and out onto the patio.

“Can’t believe you’re getting Mom and Ben involved in this.” Molly sat on a stool on the other side of the counter.

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