"Is this what I think it is?" Mark asked, motioning Papa toward the small cl.u.s.ter of needles on a partially obscured branch.

"I don't know. What do you think it is?" Papa answered.

"Pine wilt?"

Papa stared, then solemnly nodded his head. "It is. You sure caught it early. But it will still have to go."

"I'll let Brett know. Should we burn it or chip it?"

"Your choice. But how the d.i.c.kens did you see that branch?" Papa asked.

Mark looked into Papa's face. The wind, the melancholy, the magnetic pull to that tree-was that all because of the promise?

"You don't have to answer that. Like I told you, the power is in the promise," Papa said. He was already walking ahead, and Mark ran to catch up but not to talk. His mind replayed what had happened-to memorize it, to maybe understand it.

"Papa, can I tell Angela about the promise?"

"You're gonna marry her, right?" Papa asked, a bit exasperated.

"Yes," Mark insisted.

"Then you better."

Chapter 15.

Angela awoke Friday morning with flood-fighting weariness. She felt every muscle in her legs, including the ones she hadn't used since her step-aerobics craze. Caroline had come to check on her twice-once to ask if she could have the last of the Lucky Charms for breakfast, taking advantage of Angela's deep sleep, no doubt, and the second time to ask if Angela were sick and if she should call a doctor. Or maybe the friendly paramedic who took her to the hospital last year. Knowing Caroline, she could have that paramedic on the phone in minutes.

"I'm getting up right now," Angela said. As she sat up in bed, memories of the farm rushed back to her. The water and mud. The sandbags and the cabin. And Mark!

She instinctively reached for her hand and felt the bare s.p.a.ce at the base of her finger. Mark's question. She wanted to hug him all over again.

Will you marry me?

She'd said yes. Of course she'd said yes.

A smile crossed her face.

"Are you ready?" Caroline came back to her room.

"Come sit on the end of my bed. I've got some news. You were asleep last night when I got home."

"You mean early this morning? Grandma told me it was 3:00 a.m.," Caroline said with a smile.

"Yes, earlier this morning. And she told you about the flood. But this is something that happened after." Angela paused, making sure she hadn't dreamt it. "Mark asked me to marry him last night."

"Serious? That's awesome!" Caroline jumped off the bed and then back on, closer to Angela, and gave her a big hug.

"I can tell you more about it on the way to school. I don't want you to be late," Angela said. She got up and dressed while Caroline ran back to the kitchen. She could hear her rinsing her cereal bowl and singing.

As they were headed out the door, Caroline stopped abruptly. "Do you know what this means? We'll be living at the farm for Christmas!"

"No, wait. We're barely engaged. We can't get married that soon," Angela said immediately.

"But Papa said."

"I know what he said, but Mark and I didn't even talk about a date. The farm was flooded. He-we have so much work to do," Angela said.

Caroline pulled on the straps of her backpack and climbed into the truck. As they drove to her school, she asked, "Where's your ring?"

Angela should have known better than to think Caroline wouldn't notice.

"Mark had it in his pocket at dinner but forgot about it when we rushed to the farm. We think it got lost in the water."

"You don't have it? Did you look everywhere?

"Not everywhere. We were both exhausted."

By this time they were at the school and saying good-bye. As Caroline closed the truck door and Angela drove away, her cell phone rang.

Her mother.

"Good morning. Did Caroline make it to school on time?"

"I just dropped her off. Thanks for staying until I got back."

"I ought to have stayed till this morning. You must be exhausted," Cathy said.

"Yes, but I told you to go. You have a big day of shopping for your trip, don't you?"

"That's right, I do. It's so hard to predict what the weather will do when I'm there, I want to have enough warm clothes, but Nancy says-"

"Mark proposed last night." She said it quickly, as if she were ripping off a bandage. As interesting as her mother's vacation fashion woes sounded, she knew she wouldn't mind the interruption.

"Excuse me? Last night? And you're telling me now?"

"Mom, it's 8:45 in the morning. The only way you could have known sooner was if you'd been there!" she said as she pulled the truck into her driveway.

"You could have told me when you came in," she said flatly.

What difference did five hours make? For all of Angela's trying to help things stay good between them, it was moments like this where she questioned if it had been worth it.

"A minute ago you acknowledged how exhausted I must be. At 3:00 a.m. I wasn't in any condition to have this conversation," Angela said while internally scolding herself for sounding so defensive.

"This changes things. I can arrange to go shopping next week," her mother said.

"Why would you do that? What are you talking about?"

"We've got a wedding to plan! I'm thinking of two places. If I call right now, we may be able to get you booked before next year's holiday."

Angela let out a long, exasperated breath before speaking.

"Mom. No calls. No places. Mark and I don't have a date yet. I don't even have a ring," she said. "I'm headed over to the farm to help clean up."

There was silence between them.

"No ring?" Cathy finally asked.

"We think it was lost in the water. We're not sure," Angela said, kicking herself for even mentioning it. "Maybe it will turn up."

"But he did propose?"

"Yes! And this is where a normal mom might say something like "'Congratulations' or 'I'm happy for you,' not 'Why didn't you tell me five hours earlier?'" Angela got out of the truck and slammed her door, not caring if her mother heard it through the phone. She got as far as her porch and sat on her wicker chair.

"I got caught up in the excitement," Cathy said. "Congratulations."

"Thank you," she said, relieved her mother was calming down.

"We could go look at a dress or two before I leave next week?"

Or not.

Without the strength to argue, Angela offered a simple "Maybe, if there's time."

She headed into her house to eat a little breakfast and planned to get to the farm to help clean up. As soon as she could get her legs to cooperate.

Her phone rang again. Not moving so quickly and convinced it was her mother calling with the guest list already compiled, she picked up on the last ring.

She heard a man's voice she didn't recognize.

"Angela, is that you? You there? I'll be in Sutton in a few hours. Are we still on for dinner?"

Her heart sank. "This must be ... I'm sorry, what was it-John?"

"The one and only. What are the chances that we meet a week before I have some business in Sutton? You've got to admit that's pretty cool."

"Right. About that ..." Angela took a deep breath. This should be easy, she thought.

"There was a flood, and I'm exhausted. And, actually, I'm engaged," she said as she stared at her ring-less hand, shaking her head, wishing she'd said that first.

The line remained quiet for a moment.

"I gotta say, I wasn't expecting that. I tell you what. I'm still going to be in Sutton and there's a great steak house not too far away. Why don't you and your fiance meet me there about six?"

"You really don't have to. With the flood, we have so much to clean up."

"A flood?" he said somewhat flatly. "That's too bad. I can't compete with that, now can I? Here's what I'll do. I've got some business over at the farm. I'll bring a little dinner to drop off to you. Does your fiancee work at the farm too?"

You could say that. "As a matter of fact, he does."

"Maybe I know this guy. I'm doing a little business with the owner."

If that were the case, Angela felt a wave of relief over not going to dinner with him simply to be polite. "What kind of business?" she asked.

"Do you know Mark Shafer, the owner? We had a buyer interested in the farm last year, but he pa.s.sed on it. I don't usually do this, you know. When I go out of my way for someone and they pa.s.s up a great deal, I move on, but I can't help myself. Something about Mark-did you say you know him? Anyway, the farm won't be around much longer with Ma.s.sDOT about to help themselves to most of the acreage. I'm going to do Mark a favor and get him more for the farm than he'll see from the state."

Shock seized Angela. She couldn't believe what she was hearing. "The farm won't be around much longer? Did I hear you right?" Angela stammered.

"I don't know Ma.s.sDOT's timeline, but if your fiancee works there at the farm, he might want to start looking for another job. You know, I would."

"Another job," Angela repeated the words slowly but her mind was reeling, her heart racing. "So you'll be at the farm in a few hours?"

"Yeah, I'll bring something, maybe pizza for everyone. Courtesy of John Jackson Development. Least I can do. And you can introduce me to your fiancee. See you about six. Gotta go."

"Okay." Not okay. What am I saying?

"And, Angela," he said pointedly, "congratulations on your engagement. Whoever it is, he's a lucky guy."

With that, he hung up.

He's lucky, all right.

The fatigue had left her muscles, which were now powered by pure outrage. How could he? How dare he? Sell the farm?

She replayed John's words. She a.n.a.lyzed them for anything she could have misunderstood. No matter which way she replayed the conversation-he had been clear about one thing: the farm wouldn't be around much longer.

And Mark hadn't said a thing. Not one word.

When exactly was he planning on telling her? After he proposed? After they married?

On the way to the farm, Angela tried to cool her boiling emotions. There has to be more to the story, she told herself. Maybe this John has his facts confused. Maybe he's thinking of another farm.

Unlikely, and she knew it. The pit in her stomach grew larger.

When she arrived and parked, she looked at the trees from the east to the ones that had been battered by the floodwaters. John's words echoed in her mind. "The farm won't be around much longer."

He has to be wrong.

She marched to the front door and found no one inside. Of course they'd be working, cleaning up after last night.

Brett walked up on the porch at the same time that she was coming out of the house.

"Where's Mark?" she asked without a proper greeting.