we’ve been good. It’s not that I can’t do anything, you just have a better grasp on finances than I do.”
“I don’t know about that—”
“I do. I might as well tell you now. The farm’s in trouble. I borrowed a bunch of money and built a big dairy barn. Those are the buildings that you mentioned when you first came. But the price of milk tanked, and I lost my contract before I ever put a cow in her.”
“Oh my goodness.” Dread pulled in her stomach. And compassion. And disbelief, that he would even say that to her after the way she’d treated him. That he would admit something so hard.
“How much?” she asked gently, unsure if he’d trust her with that much.
“A half a million.”
“What are you going to do?”
He shifted. “I don’t know. I probably won’t have much of a choice. I’ve got a good crop of corn, and I can pay all of my regular bills, but I can’t even begin to touch that loan. I probably have until the beginning of the year, and then I’ll lose the farm. I think I’ll just let it go, start new somewhere else.”
“You’re kidding. You’ll just let it go?”
His hand moved in the darkness, almost like he was lifting it up. “What else is there to do? I don’t see any other solutions.”
She didn’t say anything and figured she better not. Maybe he’d let her look at the books, maybe she could figure something out, but not tonight.
“Would it hurt your feelings if I say I don’t care?”
Even though it was dark, she could tell his head spun toward her, like he was searching out her face in the darkness.
“Thanks,” he said with a heavy dose of sarcasm.
“Not like that. I mean that doesn’t make any difference in what I’ve been saying, what I’ve said, the apologies I’ve made, and...how I feel.”
“Oh. Don’t you want to gloat a little? After all, this is the second time in the last decade that I’ve been in serious financial trouble.”
“Maybe this is just God giving us a chance to do it again. And handle it the right way.”
He snorted. “Really, he doesn’t need to be that generous.”
She laughed a little. “Seriously. This is almost the exact same thing that came between us before. And maybe you weren’t getting it from what I’d said earlier, but what I was trying to say was that I regretted what I had done. Regretted it and wish I could change it.”
“You’re not involved in this. I mean, what are you gonna do? You can’t leave me again when you’re already gone.”
She sat up, pulling her legs up and crossing them, and staring down, with her lips pursed, breathing in deeply like she was getting ready to jump off a cliff. Because that’s what it felt like. Fear, anticipation, and that adrenaline high when you just throw yourself out there and have no idea what the result will be. It was all flowing together and swishing inside of her.
One more deep breath and she lifted her head, and looked at him, and said clearly, “Maybe I want to come back. What would you say to that? If I said I wish I’d never left, and I want to come back to Missouri, back to this farm, back to you. I never stopped being your wife, but I want to be your wife here, beside you.”
Her hands trembled. She clenched them in her lap, and her breath shook. She closed her eyes and leaned her head back, pointing her face toward the ceiling, and waited.
And waited.
“What would I say? Is that what you wanted to know?” He paused. “This is a hypothetical question?”
She opened her mouth to answer, but his finger landed on her cheek and slid down to her lips.
“Forget that. I’ll pretend it’s real.” A short pause that felt like forever. “Emmy. I want that. I want that more than anything. No. What I want more than anything is to be with you. I was thinking maybe it would be a good thing for me to lose the farm. Maybe I would start over again...in Switzerland. If that’s where you are. Because wherever you are is where I want to be.”
She still had trouble breathing, but for a completely different reason. “I take it back. I said earlier that you are not romantic. That’s not true. This is the most romantic thing you’ve ever said to me.”
“You better enjoy it. I’m not sure there’s any more