An uneasy silence accompanied them down the hill, and when they reached the farmhouse, Zachary disappeared upstairs. Max headed for Bella’s Park, where Hannah had gone to finish paperwork.

“Calm down, Max,” Hannah said when Max stormed into her office at the park, ranting about what he assumed was Zachary’s grand plan for his land.

“Zachary doesn’t control your land. Regardless of what he thinks or what he says”—and from what little Max had told her, Hannah wasn’t sure what it was that Zachary had said—“he was probably talking off the top of his head. You own the land. He can’t do anything with it or to it.”

Hannah grasped Max’s arm and led him to the couch, where she pushed him to sit, then sat beside him and slipped her arm through his. “Let me make a suggestion. Why don’t you create a trust of some kind and state exactly what you’d like to have happen with the dairy and the land? That would make it easier for me if, God forbid, I should ever have to deal with Zachary.”

“Good idea. I’ll call my lawyer tomorrow.” He punched a fist into the palm of his other hand. “His mother dies. He packs a bag and disappears. He’s gone for years without a ‘How are you, Dad?’ Then he drops in with a wife I know nothing about, announces that he hates Covington and is going to live and work in India in her father’s business. When that doesn’t work out, he’s back, full of ideas about what he wants to do with my land.”

Hannah could no longer restrain Max, who jumped to his feet and paced about the office. “Well, damn him, he can go to the devil for all I care. In fact, he can take that wife of his and get out of my house.”

Hannah patted the couch beside her. “Come, Max, sit down. Let me get you some coffee, or a Coke, or would you like a beer? You’re angry and hurt, and justifiably so.”

He nodded in agreement and joined her again on the couch. Max brought his head almost to his chest, then threw it back hard. “You’re right, as usual. I’ll take a cup of coffee, please. I’m sorry, carrying on like this.” He ran his fingers through his hair and smiled at her. “I am sorry, honey. Why do I let him get under my skin like this?”

Hannah brought him coffee. “You cannot ask them to leave right now, Max. But Sarina’s not to blame for what Zachary says or does, and she’s about to have a baby. You wouldn’t ask her to leave before the baby comes, would you?”