Chapter 3

After lunch, Theo decided I needed to learn the basics of ranch life. "Can't have you getting lost if you wander off," he said with what I was starting to recognize as his dry sense of humor.

The first stop was the chicken coop. I approached the birds like they might explode.

"They're just chickens, Seraphina," Theo said, trying not to smile as I held the feed bucket at arm's length.

"They have very sharp beaks," I pointed out.

"They're not going to attack you."

Famous last words. The moment I stepped into the coop, every chicken in the place seemed to converge on me at once. I yelped and dropped the bucket, sending feed scattering everywhere.

Theo was laughing now—really laughing—and the sound was infectious enough that I found myself smiling despite being covered in chicken feed.

"Okay, maybe we'll work up to the chickens," he said, still grinning.

Next was the vegetable garden, where I managed to pull up several expensive heirloom tomato plants instead of weeds. Then the barn, where I somehow got myself tangled in a lead rope while trying to pet one of the horses.

"You know what?" Theo said after rescuing me for the third time in an hour. "Maybe we should stick to indoor activities for now."

"I'm not usually this hopeless," I protested.

"I believe you." His eyes were warm with amusement. "You just haven't found your element yet."

The thing was, I was starting to think maybe my element wasn't what I'd always believed. Back in New York, I thrived on pressure and competition. Here, watching Theo patiently show me how to properly hold a garden tool or explain why certain plants grew better together, I felt something I hadn't experienced in years.

Peace.

Late in the afternoon, we sat on the front porch with fresh bread still warm from the oven, real butter that he'd made that morning, and jam from berries grown right here on the property.

"This is what you do every day?" I asked, spreading butter that was nothing like the processed stuff I was used to.

"Pretty much." He broke off another piece of bread. "I know it probably seems boring compared to what you're used to."

"It's not boring," I said, surprising myself with how much I meant it. "It's just... different."

We sat in comfortable silence for a while, watching the sun get lower in the sky. The landscape stretched out endlessly in front of us—rolling hills and pastures that looked like something from a postcard.

"Tell me about the business side," I said eventually. "What you're planning to do with all this organic production."

His face lit up as he started explaining his ideas for expanding the operation, creating partnerships with local restaurants, maybe even developing a mail-order business for his specialty flours.

I found myself leaning forward, genuinely interested. Not just in the business potential—though there was plenty of that—but in the passion in his voice when he talked about his work.

"You could easily scale this up," I said, my mind already running through possibilities. "With the right marketing strategy and distribution network..."

"You really think so?"

"I know so." I looked at him, this boy who'd been thrust into a marriage neither of us wanted, and realized I was seeing him clearly for the first time. "You're sitting on something amazing here, Theo."

He smiled—a real smile that reached his eyes—and for a moment I forgot about business entirely.

Then he reached over and brushed something from the corner of my mouth. "You had a crumb," he said softly.

We both froze. His hand was still raised near my face, and suddenly the air between us felt charged with something I definitely wasn't prepared to analyze.

I cleared my throat and looked away first. This is supposed to be temporary, I reminded myself. Just a business arrangement.

But sitting there with him in the golden evening light, that felt harder to remember.

Thunder rumbled in the distance, making us both look up. The sky, which had been clear all day, was suddenly dark with clouds rolling in fast.

"Looks like we're in for some weather," Theo said, standing up and gathering our plates.

As if on cue, the first fat raindrops started falling. Then more. Then a lot more.

"We should get inside," he said, but before we could move, I heard a steady dripping sound coming from inside the house.

"Is that...?"

Theo's face went pale. "The roof. I've been meaning to patch that section, but..."

The dripping got louder. Whatever was happening up there, it wasn't going to wait for convenient timing.

So much for a peaceful evening.