Page 43 of Truck Off

“Again, bullshit.” Grams puts her hands on her hips and stares me down like the little menace she can sometimes be. She’s not letting me out of this conversation. “Tell me what happened.”

“She found out before I had a chance to tell her myself. She didn’t take it so well.”

“Imagine she didn’t.” She sighs and glances out the open barn door at the newly planted fields before she looks back at me. “How you gonna fix this?”

“I don’t know yet. She won’t take my calls or answer any of my messages. I’ve tried catching her outside Country Ink, but she ignores me. Any suggestions?”

Grams studies me again before she speaks. “Lina’s a complicated woman with a complicated life. She doesn’t trust easily. Not gonna lie to you. Breakin’ her trust will be hard to overcome. But it’s doable. If you really care about her and want a shot, you’re gonna have to be persistent.”

“Persistent? I don’t want to be a nuisance. I already feel like a stalker.”

“I’m not talkin’ about calls or messages or following her around. You need to let her see who you really are. You’re a good man, Chase. The best. I’ve no doubt if that woman lets you love her, it will be the best love she’s ever seen or felt.”

“No one said anything about love, Grams. I want to date her first.”

“Yeah, well. Dating leads to love. But before you can date her, show her you’re worth the risk.”

“And how do I do that if she won’t talk to me?”

“You’re a smart and resourceful man. Figure it out.”

With that, Grams spins on her heels and leaves me standing alone. I stare after her, clueless to how I’m going to figure it out.

“Not a lot of help there, Grams,” I mumble as I turn back to sorting the eggs.

I do my best to push all thoughts of Lina from my mind and pour myself into the farm. I’ve got enough work that needs to be done to keep three people busy.

Maybe if I work myself to death, I won’t think about how she feels. Or how sweet her lips taste. Or how my body lights up with anticipation and need when she’s nearby.

Unfortunately, it doesn’t work.

* * *

The roar of loud engines causes my ears to ring, and the smell of dust and smoke overpowers my lungs. I cough to clear my throat and chest.

It’s the spring tractor-pull, and Mac just finished his first race. He won, but just barely. Jason Koch, the youngest of our lifelong rivals, finished a dangerously close second.

Even though Jason never causes us any problems, Mac will still be pissed he almost beat him.

Jason is the only Koch that doesn’t seem to give a shit about the feud between our two families. Well, he and his sister Amelia. She never participates in feeding it either.

I’m crowded around the first row of the bleachers with the rest of my brothers near where Mac will head once he accepts his winnings. He doesn’t get much. It’s just a cheap metal figurine of an old-time tractor.

But the prize isn’t the point of winning at tractor-pulling. It’s about the thrill and bragging rights.

Tractor-pulls are nothing like racing fast cars on a perfectly paved track. In fact, there is no track. It’s just an open, dirt field surrounded by bleachers. Most of the time, the field is smooth and even from recently being graded.

But sometimes, like tonight, it’s rough with deep ridges. After a hard rain, the field can get pretty messed up. It takes several rounds of grading to smooth it out again. Or some hard racing.

I prefer nights like this when they leave it rough. It makes for more interesting and exciting races.

The souped-up tractors line up on one end with trailers loaded with weights and debris attached to the back. As they race across the field to see whose tractor will win, the rough ridges cause a lot more bouncing around. Sometimes they even get stuck. Watching drivers try to maneuver their hauls free is entertaining as hell.

The surrounding arena lights kick on, illuminating the field more. I hadn’t even realized that the sun was setting. We’ve probably got another thirty minutes of daylight left.

This also means its intermission. About half the races are held prior to sunset, and the other half after.

After dark is when things tend to get more exciting. There’s no meaningful difference between the races or the entries. The order of the races is purely by the luck of the draw.

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