Page 90 of Harvest Moon (Riverbend 3)

Laurel’s legs trembled as she headed toward the playground with Gavin and Emma, their feet swishing through the long grass. The sun hadn’t yet peeked over the mountains to dry the morning dew, and a chill hung in the late-September air.

The park was all theirs, and as they neared the equipment Emma quickened her steps. “Go play!”

“Yes, angel, you go play,” Laurel said. “Be careful.”

By silent agreement she and Gavin headed toward one of the benches facing the playground. It had been a long night filled with tossing and turning and little sleep. Gavin’s proposal had hung like a dark cloud over her bed. She was glad they’d agreed to sleep on it.

Emma had awakened them both at dawn, but their busy morning hadn’t been conducive to life-altering conversations. The park had been Gavin’s suggestion.

Laurel sank onto the wooden bench and Gavin did the same. The tops of the mountains were just coming alive with a kaleidoscope of autumn colors. Soon the vibrant hues of red, yellow, and orange would sweep down the mountains into the valley, ushering in a brilliant fall display.

“So . . .” Gavin stretched his legs in front of him. “What’s on your mind today?”

A laugh bubbled from her throat. He’d always been good at breaking the tension. And there’d been enough tension between them this morning to disrupt cell tower signals.

“Listen,” he continued, “I’m just going to get right to the point because I don’t know how long Emma’s going to occupy herself. I spent all night weighing the pros and cons. You probably did too. I know all this was my idea, but after considering it all night—I don’t think we should get married.”

Her breath spilled out. He was absolutely right about that—even though the thought of staying in Riverbend held plenty of appeal. “I’m glad you said that. I agree with you. No offense.”

“None taken.”

They shared an awkward laugh.

“Look, Waurel,” Emma called from where she bent over the rubber swing, feet lifted from the wood chips. “I swing.”

“Good job, Emma.” She glanced at Gavin. “Marriage is hard enough when the couple prioritizes each other. If we got married for Emma’s sake, she would be our priority.”

“And while she’s definitely worthy of being a priority, a marriage based solely around her wouldn’t be healthy.”

“For any of us.”

He gave a slow smile. “We’ve done some growing and maturing while we’ve been apart.”

“Seems so. But we still haven’t solved the problem. I can’t let Darcy get guardianship.”

“I had another idea last night—or rather early this morning. Bear with me, I’m functioning on very little sleep.”

“Lay it on me.”

He scuffled the toe of his shoe in the dirt. “What would’ve happened if Mike and Mallory died with a child when we were still married?”

She hitched a shoulder. “We would’ve gotten guardianship.”

“And then, what? After we divorced...”

“We would’ve had to come up with a custody arrangement I guess.”

“Exactly. Why couldn’t we do that now?”

She blinked at him. “You’re proposing we petition for joint guardianship?”

“Why not? She’d get to stay in her home, in a community of people who love her, and we’d share the responsibility of raising her.”

“That’s... far from ideal.”

“Darcy is far from ideal. Families do this all the time. You could petition for guardianship of the estate. You could live there with Emma, manage the orchard—who better to do it?”

“That’s not fair to you.”

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