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“Oh, that’s right. I didn’t think much about it. Amelia’s accident happened right about the time of Wally and Ashley’s. A few weeks later, I think.”

“I get it.” And he did. Losing her firstborn had spun Mom into quite a spiral there for a while. Tate had come home to stay with her and help with Jamie, who’d been barely a year old.

Maxwell couldn’t blame her for the oversight, all things considered. Besides, what would he have done if he’d known? Come home for Amelia’s funeral? Sent a sympathy card? Probably nothing.

“Some of the people from church help Keith out here and there. I think he’s fallen on hard times since his daughter died.” Mom shook her head and took a sip of tea.

“I’m sorry to hear that.” Eryn hadn’t mentioned anything, but why would she have? Maxwell was practically a stranger, and a person didn’t go around dumping financial woes on strangers. Not unless they were reduced to begging on a street corner with a cardboard sign in one hand and a tin cup in the other.

“Who else did you talk to?”

Maxwell thought over the evening. “No one else for more than a minute or two. Heavenly Brew catered coffee and snacks, there were some games, and a band comprised of some of my former classmates performed. And we got the schedule for the rest of the weekend.”

He’d sat beside Eryn during the short program, since they’d been chatting when it started. No need to mention that to Mom, since she already heard wedding bells everywhere. Maxwell’s cousin Graham’s wedding had been last weekend in Montana, and Mom couldn’t stop talking about it. Negatively, because it had taken place at the main lodge at Sweet River Ranch and hadn’t been a big society affair in an upscale Chicago venue. Positively, because it was impossible to deny how happy Graham and Cadence were together.

And Paisley Teele had been flashing an engagement ring from another of Max’s cousins, Weston. They were planning a spring wedding. No wonder Mom had romance in mind, though Maxwell and Bryce had given her zero reason to believe they were moving in that direction anytime soon.

After tonight, Maxwell had weddings on the brain, too. He’d be 30 in a few weeks. Stuart Brandt had a wife and four kids. Maxwell had no prospects at all.

What had he even accomplished so far in his life?

Dad should not be sitting at the kitchen table, gloomily nursing a cup of coffee at 10:00 at night. He glanced up as Eryn entered and offered a wan smile. “Hi.”

“Are you okay?” She set her crossbody purse on the closet shelf and kicked her sneakers into the bottom.

Dad shifted his gaze. “I think we need to talk.”

A sense of foreboding settled in Eryn’s gut. “About what?”

“There’s no easy way to start this conversation, so I’ll get right to it. Larry Groening offered to buy the farm.”

Eryn sagged into the wooden chair around the corner from Dad. “But you said no, right? We’ll get on top of this.” How? No clue.

He shook his head. “I agreed. He’s expanding his market garden and can use the acreage. Maybe I can even work for him.”

“But you can’t?—”

Dad looked over at her with a woebegone expression. “I’ve been holding you back. What girl your age wants to keep house for her old man?”

“Me!”

“Do you really?” He huffed a laugh. “Or do you just feel sorry for me?”

Eryn opened her mouth to protest but snapped it shut before finally finding words. “We’re a team. We’re all we have left.”

“You should be finding yourself some nice young man. Get married. Have a few kids. I could enjoy having young’uns around again.”

“There isn’t any guy I want to date, let alone marry.” Maxwell’s kind eyes and fine form drifted in front of her mind’s eye, but that was ridiculous. Just because they’d chatted for 20 minutes and found themselves seated next to one other for the program didn’t mean they were anything to each other. She banished the thought.

“I just couldn’t hold onto the farm anymore, Rynie. The bank refused to let up the pressure, and my heart’s not into fighting any longer. It’s time to let go.”

She’d be willing to bet this sort of thing never happened in the Sullivan family with all their wealth.

Bitterness does not become you, Eryn. They earned their security.

But had they really? Had Maxwell? Or had he simply lucked out being born into a family with money while she’d drawn the short straw for poverty? Which also didn’t change anything.

“I’ll work more hours and give you more of my paycheck.”