The afternoon at the farm was calm, the kind of quiet that settled deep into the snow-covered fields. Lee sat at the kitchen table with Tracy and Ms. Bea, sipping coffee while Max wandered in, phone in hand, grinning at another text from Millie.
“She still doesn’t know if she can make it for New Year’s,” Max said, dropping into a chair. “But at least she’s answering me.”
Tracy smiled knowingly. “Patience, Max. Sometimes friendship is the best start.”
Lee chuckled, remembering his own words to his brother the day before. Mitchell joined them, his expression softer than it had been in years. The tension that had once weighed heavy between father and son seemed to have lifted, replaced with something steadier.
“You’ll be heading back to the bakery for the night?” Mitchell asked.
Lee nodd
