The December wind carried the scent of woodsmoke across the fields as Millie’s car crunched down the gravel drive. She had rehearsed this moment in her head—how she would face Lee’s family, how she would explain herself—but nothing prepared her for the sight of the farmhouse glowing against the winter dusk. It wasn’t corporate boardrooms or city skylines. It was home, and it felt disarmingly real.
Tracy was the first to spot her from the porch. She tugged her scarf tighter, eyes narrowing with curiosity before softening into welcome. “You must be Millie,” she called, her voice carrying warmth but edged with caution. “Come on in before you freeze.”
Inside, the farmhouse kitchen was alive with chatter. Max leaned against the counter, arms folded, while Ms. Bea stirred a pot of stew, her pr
