Evans shrugged, a slow grin curving his lips. "Well, I couldn't let you brood anymore. It's exhausting watching you scowl every day."
Sam laughed again. "Come! Come, dearie," he said, his eyes glistening as he looked at Ivy and Mary. "Evans, help them in! Irene, get someone. John is in the house—get him to help!"
Ivy waved a dismissive hand, her lips curling in a stubborn smile. "I can manage," she said. "I'll be fine."
She took a deep breath, steadied herself, and started up the porch steps.
Irene led Sam to his armchair, fussing over him as he pretended to protest. Mary settled on the sofa, Evans beside her, while Ivy wandered a bit, her gaze taking in family photos—some faded, some recent.
Once everyone was settled, Ivy moved toward Evans again, her eyes sharp with purpose. She waited until Irene had disappeared into the kitchen before whispering, "I need to talk to Winn."
