Page 73 of No Bed Of Roses

Hold My Beer

High summer

Isla looked up at the painting on the barn. A few months before, she’d wondered if it had been painted with ego or love. Now, she figured it had to be love.

She never spent much time on an actual farm before arriving in Vermont. She’d devoted her schooling and adult life to plants but in a different way. The time she’d spent in labs and on research had given her a very different perspective from what farm life was like.

In reality, farming was hard work. Long days in whatever weather Mother Nature decided to throw your way.

It was also the most satisfying labor Isla had ever done. Watching Levi’s hops grow. Performing experiments in one of her four greenhouses. Tweaking soil acidity and playing with combining varieties was even more fun when she could see the results playing out in the fields next to her farm.

She turned to survey her own area, thinking of her mom as well as all the farmers and gardeners who’d come before. Along with her greenhouses, the yard was filled with plants. In rows, in pots, in planters.

Flowers mixed with vegetables and fruit bushes. Everywhere she turned, she saw memories of her mom and Constanza. And reminders of the man she loved. He’d helped her with every inch of the property, just as she’d helped him with his fields.

The tractor that had saved her from a serious fall had proven to be better suited for Levi’s hops. They’d opened a gate in the fence to allow equipment to pass through in either direction. While the gate made it easier, she still loved climbing over the fence, especially with Levi’s assistance. They’d shared a lot of good memories and moments on that fence.

And in that tractor as well.

That brought her eyes back to the painting. Ego or love? She supposed you had to have some ego to grow things. To believe you could feed your family and provide for yourself and others. But she’d learned that growing plants, whether they were hops or vegetables or flowers, was more about love than ego.

Every time she looked up at Farmer Phail on her barn, she’d remember that.

Strong arms wrapped around her and she leaned back into Levi’s strength. “Hey.”

“Hey, yourself. What are you contemplating out here in the dusk?”

She laid her arms over his. “Life. Farming. Mother Nature. Love.”

His chuckle had her smiling. “Feeling philosophical today?”

She nodded. “It’s a good life here. These farms, this land, these people.”

He hugged her more tightly. “It is.”

The fierceness of his answer had her turning to study him. “What is it?”

“I spoke to Marcus while I was helping Sean with that building he’s fixing up.”

Her body tightened. “Bad news?”

He kissed her forehead and pulled her close. “No. The opposite, actually.”

Relief had her body shuddering and leaning into him. “What is it?”

“Glen Hicks has changed his plea to guilty.”

That shocked her. “Seriously? Why?”

Levi shrugged. “I don’t know, but I’m betting it’s some kind of plea deal. Probably knew he was facing certain jail time and wanted to reduce the length of the sentence.”

Which meant he could come after her again sooner. But what would be the point? Her dad wouldn’t give him a single dollar after what he’d done.

She sighed. “I’m glad he’s pleading guilty, but it all seems like such a waste.”

“They made their choices.”

“I know, but I wish none of it had ever happened. With Ed already sentenced and now Glen pleading guilty, at least our part in it is pretty much over.”

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