“We assumed you’d sell the farm,” Michael said, glancing around at the artwork with an expression that bordered on contempt. “Didn’t think you’d be interested in this place.”

“I was curious,” I said, lifting my chin slightly. “Joshua wanted me to see it first.”

Michael’s eyes flickered with something I couldn’t quite read. Was it resentment? Regret? “This place was important to him,” he said, his tone softening slightly. “Important to all of us.”

I braced myself. There had always been a distance between Joshua and his family, a chasm filled with unspoken grievances and hidden hurts. I suspected the farm was at the heart of it. I wanted to ask, to understand, but the tension in the room was palpable, a living thing that clawed at my composure.

Before I could gather the courage to inquire further, another man, Richard, who I remembered vaguely from family gatherings, spoke up. “We thought you’d at least let us know your plans. It’s part of our legacy too.”

Their legacy. Our legacy. I looked around again at the art, at the beauty Joshua had created from his past pains. This was not just a farm; it was a testament to healing and transformation—a reflection of what he had hoped to build with me.

“I don’t know what my plans are,” I confessed, my voice wavering with the weight of uncertainty. “Joshua wanted me to come here, to see what he’d done. I’m still…processing.”

The third man, a cousin named David, nodded slowly. “He loved you, Catherine. That much was clear.”

The room fell silent, a collective contemplation of what Joshua’s love had wrought—a silent testament not just in paint and wood, but in every choice, every decision he had made for us.

Michael sighed heavily, the tension in his shoulders easing just a fraction. “I suppose we should leave you to it then,” he said, his voice gruff but not unkind.

As they turned to leave, a flicker of hope sparked within me. Perhaps this farm, this unexpected inheritance, could be a bridge—a way to mend old wounds and start anew. But first, I needed to understand what Joshua had truly left behind, for them and for me.

I watched as the SUV disappeared down the gravel path, feeling the weight of the future pressing gently but firmly at my back. The farm was a mystery, a gift, and perhaps, with time, a new beginning.