65. Marnie

I step out of the old building and look back at it. One hundred years ago, Marcus Hill moved to Silver Bend from Sante Fe, New Mexico. He built this mortuary in the classic adobe style, as though clay and stained glass the color of Southwestern Turquoise could make up for Nebraska’s long winters and featureless plains. A bit morbid, perhaps, to think about putting a bakery in an old mortuary. But I have eaten at a restaurant in St. Louis that was built in an old funeral home. It didn’t lack for panache.

But this building isn’t going to work. It’s got more problems than Swiss cheese has holes.

The realtor, Jana Harding, locks the doors and turns back to me. She’s beautiful, in her own way, made up with ice pink lipstick and baby blue eyeshadow. “So, what do you think? Could you make it work?”

I shake my head. “I don’t think so. It’s a beautiful building, but it would take too much work to get into shape.”

She nods, like she knew that was my answer all along. “You need something more turnkey?”

“Yeah, I think so.”

“Okay. I’ll see what I can do. I don’t have any more options in Silver Bend. Would you think about Clark?”

I wanted to have the bakery in Silver Bend so that I could stay near Dusty. That way, if he needed a quick hand on the farm, I could just hop over. “Clark would be a bit of a commute, but I think I could make it work if there’s nothing else.”

Jana lifts a shoulder. “Short of new construction, or retro-fitting your house, I’m afraid you’re next best option is Clark.”

“Okay. Send me what you’ve got. I’m open to the idea.”

She nods sharply. “How soon are you looking to buy?”

“As soon as possible. I want to get my bakery back up and running.”

“You bet. We’ll find you something that will be just perfect. I need to head back soon. I’m meeting a little family at one who’s looking for their first starter home. Real quick, did I hear that right, that you’ve got Dusty Larson working for you?”

My heart does that funny little flutter thing it always does when someone mentions his name. “Yep. He’s the farm manager.”

“Can I ask a favor?”

“Sure.”

She digs around in her satchel. “We ran a little late on this visit. I was supposed to stop by and drop some listings off for him, but I won’t have time.”

My stomach bottoms out. Listings? For what?

She pulls out a small stack of printouts. “I could drive them out later, but that’s an awful long way to go.”

I hold my hand out. “I’ll take them to him. No problem.”

“Oh, you’re such a peach. I’ll be in touch about Clark.”

I watch her go, afraid to look at the printouts in my hand. There’s no explanation for this that doesn’t make my heart ache. But my brain is searching, anyway. Eventually, I force myself to flip through the pages. Apartments. Small houses in Clark. Two bedrooms. One for Dusty. One for Sienna.

Why?

I climb into my car, staring into space. Eventually, I grab my cellphone and filter through email. Listen to voicemail. I’ve got one from the attorney asking me to call him back. Trying to ignore the uneasy feeling in my stomach, I call Carl’s number. He picks up right away.

“Hi, Carl.”

He sounds short of breath. “Hi, there, darlin’. I was just checking in. I never did hear back from you two about the appraisers. They need your signature of agreement before they move on.”

“The what?”

“Didn’t Dusty mention the appraisal?”

He sighs. “I passed the names along and you can ask him, but the way it works is we have three appraisers give a value on your land and we average them. It’s the fairest way to do it. And before they can get started, we all have to agree on who does the appraisal. You want to make sure they’re neutral parties.”

I pause. “Carl… I’m not so sure I want to sell anymore.”

“You’re not?”

His voice is flat when he asks that. “Well, Marnie, you’ll want to decide quick. If we get that ground appraised and you change your mind, that’s a few thousand out of your pocket you’ll never see again.”

“It’s just that I’m thinking about renting.”

“If I can be honest? I think renting is your best bet in the long run. But I understand why you’re thinking about selling.”

He pauses. “But, if you’re thinking about renting for Dusty’s sake, you don’t need to. That kid will land on his feet. Hell, he’s already got a job lined up with a buddy of mine. Starts in August.”

“He does?”

“He does.”

A chill trickles down my spine. Like cold water. He’s leaving the farm? Leaving me?

If it’s not with Dusty, I don’t have any interest in Silver Bend. He’s the lifeblood of that dream. Without him, I’d be a boat without a rudder. “Okay. I’ll get back to you soon. I promise.”

I hang up and look up and down the empty street.

Silver Bend.

Not even big enough to have a stoplight.

Was it really only two months ago that I first drove through here, in a hurry to get back to Lincoln? I never expected to find friends here. A home.

Never thought I’d find love.

Trying to separate Dusty from the idea of moving to Silver Bend feels like trying to take off a limb.

Hearing that he’s got another job lined up gives me whiplash.

I’m betting it all goes together. The appraisal. Carl and his damn job.

What I can’t understand is why Dusty was so quick to throw in the towel. I want to know why he didn’t talk to me first.

But in fairness, the idea of bringing it up with him makes me nauseous.

My dad used to say don’t ask a question if you don’t want to hear the answer.

I could ask Dusty if he’s all in on the idea of us. But what if he said no? I couldn’t blame him. What twenty-five-year-old wants to get saddled with a woman ten years his senior?

My heart is aching, falling apart in my chest.

I should talk to him.

I need to talk to him.

But I’m not sure I’m brave enough.

I drive back to the house, my head in a strange place. I don’t even notice the car in the drive until I nearly bang into it.

A friend of Sienna’s?

As I round the sidewalk, and the back door comes into view, my hackles go up.

I have no idea who he is, but he’s no friend of Sienna’s. That much I know.