Farrah had always enjoyed eating dinner with Darren. He’d never said a lot, which made what he did choose to utter ultra-important. She’d gotten his message about the farm: It’s mine.
It’s mine.She supposed he deserved something that was his, though a sting kept pricking her that he hadn’t told her about his relationship with the Bybees or about his time out on this beautiful land.
Meagan took over the conversation, talking about two miles a minute about how Farrah was going to come work at the farm the same way Meagan did. “She’ll cultivate the new fingerlings, and she’s already excited about the third row mushrooms we have growing.”
Jim, her father, narrowed his eyes and chewed. He swallowed and said, “Why do we need another person doing what you’re doing?”
Meagan’s whole face turned
