Page 68 of Tempting Promises
“A little?”
“Okay, extremely stupid.”
There’s nothing I can do about it and Faye is so tenderhearted that if I were to even hint at how bad of an idea it was tothinkabout going away, she’ll blame herself and it’s not on her. It’s on me.
I should’ve never left here. I should’ve stayed here and come up with some brilliant plan to save the farm, instead I was getting naked with my archenemy.
Faye leans forward. “I’ll make it up to you with a spa day.”
“As much as I appreciate that, I don’t have time for a spa day, I need to work and see what else needsto be fixed.”
Which is like . . . everything.
She sighs heavily. “You know, this farm isn’t the only thing in life to worry about.”
“It’s what I’m worried about now,” I admit.
“You need to date, have fun, have alife. All you do is work, work, work.”
Anger wells up in me at her flippancy about it. This farm is more than just work, it’s ahome. It’s the place my mother was raised. Her bedroom was the first on the left, it has yellow wallpaper with pink flowers. Her trophies from barrel racing are still up on the shelf. I slept in there for years, staring at the girl she was, the dreams she must’ve had about me and my sister in that four-poster bed.
She had it and then it was gone.
If I lose this place, this home that is my only tether to my mother, then what? Who am I without the roots that were planted here?
Faye has it so easy. Her family gives her money for whatever she wants. She lives a life without working hard because she doesn’t have to, and I never begrudge her that, but to tell me I need to do more...I can’t.
“For most of us, that’s life, Faye. I have to work so I can pay bills. I don’t have a rich daddy who will fund my fun and dating life. It’s all on me.”
Her eyes widen and she stands. “Charlotte, I didn’t mean it like that.”
And now I feel like shit for snapping at her. “I’m sorry, I know you didn’t.”
As spoiled and privileged as she is, she doesn’t have a mean bone in her body. She’s giving and loyal, and I know her heart.
“No, you’re right. I don’t have to worry about the things you do, and I shouldn’t have said it that way. It’s me who’s sorry. You’re hurt and had a shitty week because of me, I’m going to change and we’re going to farm together.”
Now it’s my turn to look at her in shock. “I’m sorry, what?”
She’s already heading to the stairs. “You wait there, I’m going toget changed and then you and I are going to go out to the range or land or pasture?” She purses her lips. “Whatever you call it, we’ll go there, and you can teach me how to be a cowgirl. You’re a cowgirl, right? I mean, you have cows and you’re a girl. Pretty much defines what it is.”
I sigh. “Faye, I love you, but I promise, you don’t have to do that.”
“It’s what friends do. We help. Now, I’m going to get in uniform.”
Oh Lord, I can only imagine what the hell this is going to be.
Ten minutes later I hear her clomping down the steps. Sure enough, she’s a freaking mess wearing skin-tight jeans, a white tank, flannel shirt tied above her belly button, and my straw hat.
“What in the hell?” I ask when I see she’s got my boots on too.
“Yee-haw!”
I roll my eyes. “Work boots would’ve been better, I don’t need cow shit on my dancing boots.”
“I’m working with very limited options up there. So many jeans, so many sweatshirts, not enough cute stuff.”
“Yes, because the cows care,” I say with a laugh as she bounces toward me.
