Page 40 of Raised On It

It hasn’t gone unnoticed by me that he’s extremely busy with harvest and whatever business deals it is he and his parents have been meeting about. I haven’t said it to him, but it means a lot to me that he would take what little time he has to show me around town.

Since I’d already been to the farm, he took me to the schools he grew up in today. It’s still summer break for the kids, so they were empty.However, Miles had the keys to the K-8 school as well as the high school and could open any room he wanted to show me.

Maybe he’s the mayor of Eastlyn, and somehow it hasn’t come up in conversation? I can’t think of any other reason to explain why he just happened to have the keys to all of the schools in town.

When I asked this exact question, he just said he had friends in high places.

I have a sneaking suspicion there’s more to this local farm boy than he or anyone else is telling me.

He showed me each and every classroom he had over the years, gave me teachers’ names, and shared stories of pulling pigtails on the playground and stealing kisses in the library. We even went for a walk on the football field where he played for the Eastlyn Eagles.

The gleam in his eye while he shared his stories was incredibly endearing. Sweet. And yes, charming. It’s also more than evident he loved growing up here, and I think it’s safe to say he loved his school years. From the sound of things, he participated in everything school had to offer him.

He played football, basketball, and baseball all while earning a 4.0 grade point average. He was prom king and salutatorian. All of this while working on the farm early in the morning before his school day had even started.

On the surface, it seems life has been easy for him, but if you listen closely, it’s clear he’s made his own destiny with hard work, dedication, and a positive attitude.

Reading that last sentence back does sound like I’m describing Rachel Hollis or some other motivational speaker and not a backward ball cap-wearing, smart-ass, small-town farm boy, doesn’t it?

Every day I spend time with him assures me there is much more to him than meets the eye, and I can’t wait to find out what I'll learn about him next.

CHAPTER 11

Mason

Dear Journal,

Miles was busy again today,but he still made time for me. I have no idea why. It’s not as if I’m leaving tomorrow, but the man has set his mind on this, and there doesn’t seem to be any stopping him.

I may not have asked him for a daily lesson on the history of Miles and his beloved Eastlyn, but you won’t find me complaining.

Maybe he needs some sort of break or distraction from everything going on with the farm. If he needs a distraction, I’m happy to assist.

Today, I got to see the rest of town where he and all of his friends grew up. Literally.

As we drove through town, we stopped in front of each of The Crewmembers’ homes. At first, I thought it was odd when we stopped in frontof Parker’s house and he began telling me all about Parker and his family, but he did this for all six of them.

Why? Because they’re his family.

I have no idea what he is going to do when Rachel and Reece leave for Africa and Emmett moves to LA to be with Josh. Poor guy.

There were two stops today that I’m not sure I can even put into words, but I’ll try.

In the middle of our curbside lessons, we made a stop I hadn’t anticipated.

His parents' home.

Not the home they used to live in on the farm. No, we stopped at the home they currently live in.

The home they were inside when we pulled into the driveway.

When he announced where we were and that he wanted to “pop in and say hello,” I broke out in a cold sweat and stopped breathing before the word hello was out of his mouth. Not fazed by the fear he had to have seen blanketing my face, he got out of the truck, behaving as though it was no big deal. Like we were running to the corner store for milk or something.

This stop certainly wasn’t going to be like any of the other lessons we’d had so far, at least not to me. I sat there glued to my seat, staring out the windshield.

When he opened my door, he confessed that he’d told them all about the fancy writer staying in their humble little town, and they’d made him promise to bring her by.

So there we were.

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