Total pages in book: 62
Estimated words: 58051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 58051 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 290(@200wpm)___ 232(@250wpm)___ 194(@300wpm)
So instead of sticking around and taking over York Farm, I hightailed it out of this town as fast as I could and claimed the college scholarship that waited for me in Texas, where I’d met my best friend, Nicola.
And now she’s gone.
My phone beeped and the screen lit up to remind me that quiet time was over. “Ev, breakfast is ready!” I called upstairs to the sleeping teenager, because I’d learn one month into our first nine months together that yelling was more effective than a gentle shake to wake him from his slumber. The boy slept like the dead, a skill I envied each and every day. I waited and stared at the ceiling until movement stirred above me, before I finished my coffee.
Ten minutes later Everest made his appearance. At just thirteen, he was already the same height as me. But he was at that stage where his limbs were the size of a grown man’s, but he was still very much a boy, with long gangly limbs, thick shaggy black hair that looked like it hadn’t seen a comb in six months, and skin as smooth and as clear as a baby’s. His mother’s gray eyes stared back at me, and I couldn’t help but smile at the heartbreaker in training.
“You’re staring again, Aunt Bella.”
“Yeah, I know, and I’m not sorry at all. I was just thinking that one day soon you’re going to be such a handsome stinker.” He already had the makings of it, and when his growth spurt hit and his baby fat melted away, young adult women of the world would lose their minds.
Everest smirked back at me, a blush stained his cheeks. “Yeah? What am I now, chopped liver?”
“Nah, I wouldn’t say that. Right now you’re a cute stinker, emphasis on stinker. Hungry?”
“Always,” he laughed and grabbed the coffee pot.
“Still too young for this,” I reminded him.
Everest shrugged and poked his head into the fridge where he emerged with a bottle of orange juice. “Better?”
“Water would be better, but that is acceptable.”
“Water isn’t going to give me the energy I need for a long day working the fields.” It was a good attempt at a guilt trip, but it wasn’t good enough.
I laughed and put one hand on my hip. “Working the fields? Hardly, more like feeding some animals and cleaning some stalls, which shouldn’t take more than a few hours. When you’re done you can go into town and see about making some friends.” We’d been in Carson Creek for a few months now, and he’d barely left the farm or made an effort to mingle with the other teens in the area.
His shoulders stiffened at my words. “I don’t need to make any friends, Aunt Bella. I’m fine here on the farm. I like it here.”
I nodded, because I understood the urge to hide in the face of grief. “This is your home, Ev. You will always belong here, and that won’t change if you go out and make a few friends. Have a little fun.”
“Not yet, Aunt B. Okay?”
I nodded. “Okay, not yet then. But soon. You don’t want to start school as the new kid.”
“Fall is months away. I’ll be fine.”
“Okay fine. If you’d rather spend time with your super cool aunt, instead of swimming with girls at the lake or sneaking beers at the movie theater, who am I to argue?” I laughed when he rolled his eyes, enjoying this time together, because I knew that one day soon, he would wake up and view me as the enemy.
“You know if this whole farming thing doesn’t work out you might have a second career as a standup comic.”
“Har-har. Thanks for the vote of confidence, kiddo.” I pressed a kiss to his cheek and ruffled his hair before I grabbed my phone and headed towards the back door. “I’ll be fixing the fence on the south end for most of the morning, and I have my phone. Take yours with you, just in case.” I called instructions over my shoulder for what felt like the hundredth time, and then I was gone, out in the already warm and sunny day.
I smiled as I hopped in my shiny blue pickup truck and headed to the fence that probably hadn’t been fixed since the last York left the farm about ten years ago. It was good to be back on the farm, this time around I was older, and supposedly wiser. I didn’t need to make friends or connections for my social development, I’d given up on love well before the ink dried on my second divorce, which meant I only had to do two things in this world, raise Everest into a good man, and make this farm a success again.
Both jobs were daunting, and I wasn’t even sure I had it in me to do either one of them well, but those were the only things I wanted to do, which meant failure was not an option.