Total pages in book: 74
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 68736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 344(@200wpm)___ 275(@250wpm)___ 229(@300wpm)
“Just because,” I say.
Rubbing his nose against mine, he wraps his arms around me and holds me close. “Tonight,” he whispers. “I’ll tell my brothers what we talked about last night.”
“What do you think they’ll say?”
“You’ll see.” Another kiss on my lips, and Cash leaves me where I’m standing. I watch his retreating form, and a few minutes later, I hear the rumble of his truck starting and the spin of tires in the dirt.
For the rest of the day, I clear the soil of weeds and stones, digging it over until it’s loose and rich-looking. Someone in the Flint family used to tend this garden well. They used natural fertilizers to increase productivity. I want to use horse manure for some of the gardens, and I’ll start making some compost from household vegetable waste and garden waste for the fruit section. I need to do some research on the most productive and naturally resistant variants. It’ll be a labor of love, but I’m excited.
I don’t notice how late it’s getting until there are footsteps behind me, and I turn to find all of the Bradford brothers standing in a line, observing all of my hard work.
“You’re back…” I’m about to say early, and then I notice that the sky is darkening and I’ve lost all track of time.
“This looks great,” Sawyer says. “I can’t believe how much you’ve done.”
“Not just a pretty face,” Colt says, grinning.
“There’s still a lot to be done,” I say.
Cash pushes his hands deep into his pockets. “You’ll be ready to plant soon enough.”
Scott doesn’t say anything but nods with pursed lips.
“I’m sorry I haven’t gotten to dinner yet. I lost all track of time.”
“That’s okay,” Cash says. “I thought maybe we could head into town for a burger. Give you a night off.”
I rub my hands on an old rag I have hanging from my jeans. The last time I had a burger in town was on my birthday last year. It’s only three weeks away, but I haven’t told the boys yet. I don’t want them thinking I’m expecting anything. “That sounds amazing. I’ll have to get changed.”
Cash looks down at himself and then at his brothers. “I think we all do,” he laughs.
“Half an hour?” Cary asks.
“Half an hour is fine with me.”
I begin to pack away the tools, and Cary stays to help me while his brothers drift inside. “You’re really becoming part of the family,” he says, placing the larger heavy tools away.
The idea of being part of a family again gives me a funny feeling in my chest. Since Pa died, I’ve not only struggled with his loss but the loss of family in my life. Both of my parents were only children, so I’ve never had aunts and uncles or cousins. “I’m just trying to be useful,” I say.
“You’re going the extra mile.” Cary smiles gently. “You know, most people don’t do that. We have workers here who get by doing just the bare minimum. None of them are asking for additional tasks, especially ones that are harder than what they’re currently getting paid for.”
“It’s about personal satisfaction, too,” I say. “I just hate feeling like I’m stagnating. This garden… I’m going to learn so much by planting it.”
“You will. And we’ll enjoy eating whatever you grow.”
“I think you might enjoy eating the burger tonight more than my healthy organic veggies.”
Cary grins, holding his hand out to let me pass through the door first. “Burgers are great, but you can’t eat them every night and hope to live a long life.”
“Exactly,” I say.
“I’ve been talking about organic farming to Cash for a while. I think we could do something different here. Organic might be more costly to produce, and there’s a whole lot of red tape involved in complying with regulations, but the product sells for a better price, and the land doesn’t suffer. The old farmers knew what they were doing. They’d rotate their crops and leave parts of their land fallow. They didn’t need to pump the soil with chemicals.”
“And the food was healthier.”
“We should talk more,” he says. “Maybe the land we just bought...” Pausing, his eyes scan my face as though he’s worried about mentioning my farm for fear of upsetting me. “…What I mean is, we have enough land to try out something new.”
“You think my old farm could be developed into an organic farm?”
Cary shrugs. “It’s an idea.”
“It’s a good idea,” I say. For the first time since the auctioneer shouted Sold, talking about my farm doesn’t fill me with sadness. There’s a glimmer of hope in Cary’s idea. I just hope that Cash might see it too.
16
The ride to the diner is bumpy. The narrow road leading out of the ranch is unlit, but Cash knows it like the back of his hand. I'm sandwiched between Scott and Sawyer, alternating between leaning against one or the other when Cash takes hard corners. Sawyer smiles as our shoulders are pressed together. "Easy, Melanie," he laughs. "If you want to get up close and personal with me, all you've got to do is say."