Once again, I think about how lost I’d be without him. From the moment I arrived until right now. How much of this would I have been able to learn on my own? Even now, after six weeks of absorbing his knowledge, I still wouldn’t have thought of something like that. There’s still a voice in my head saying that if he wants Peppermint Branches for himself, of course he’s going to do everything in his power to save the trees, but there’s another part, growing by the second, that trusts him.

When he comes back from another run into the Balsam firs, he’s got another fallen tree, which he saws at the base and rolls alongside the previous one.

I can tell he’s flagging when he goes to get the third one. His shoulders sag and even from this far away, I can see how rapidly his chest is rising and falling, how every time he bends over with his hands on his knees to catch his breath, it takes him longer to get back up.

By the time I’ve dug the second channel all the way out to the edge of the land and back to where Noel is, I’m knackered. My limbs are shaky from the exertion, my legs are burning, my arms are trembling from the frenzied digging, and my fingers are cramping after being wrapped so tightly around the handle of the shovel for so long. Noel’s panting for breath but he doesn’t stop working, pushing a third huge tree trunk into a formation between the river and the Balsams.

‘I’m sorry,’ he says without looking up.

The words hang in the air between us. No emphasis. No explanation. I’m not even certain that he’s talking about the auction.

I push my shovel into the ground and lean on it, letting out a huge sigh. ‘Why didn’t you tell me?’

‘Because of this. Because I knew what it would look like. Because I didn’t intend to get involved. I certainly didn’t intend to fall in love with you.’ He sinks to his knees and leans over, his elbows on his thighs, his chest heaving. He looks so shattered he could collapse.

Every part of me is sodden and heavy with rain, but his words make me feel like the sun has just come out. Butterflies in my belly take flight under sunny skies and rainbows.

‘You’re wrong, you know,’ he says. ‘About everything you’re thinking. I know what it looks like, and I don’t blame you for thinking it, but it’s not that at all.’