Page 50 of Butterfly Sisters
She narrowed her eyes at him. “So, you’re saying this is a date?” Then she immediately regretted it, realizing he’d meant “dates” in general.
“Not unless you’re planning on going out with two guys at once.” He leaned back and Elvis popped his head up, giving her a punch of amusement.
She climbed up into the truck, its soft purr quite different from the old farm vehicle he’d been driving. He pulled off, the Silverado gliding over the gravel as if it were a sheet of ice.
“My mom and dad are back at my house cooking for tonight,” he said. “Mom’s got at least three casseroles going. She’s so excited to finally get to spend some quality time with all of us.”
Leigh grinned, charmed. “I needed your energy,” she said. “You showed uprightwhen I needed you. How did you know?”
He raised his eyebrows, looking happy with himself. “It’s my superpower.”
She wasn’t going to argue with the fact that it probably was.
“Why, what’s wrong?” he asked, his concentration bouncing from her to the lane in front of them.
She groaned and rubbed the pinch that had been forming in her shoulder since Meredith’s announcement. “My sister.”
“What now? I thought things were good.”
“Nan gaveherthe cabin. Justgaveit to her without consulting any of us. And now she wants to completely change it and rent it out to vacationers.” Elvis put his head on her lap as if consoling her, so she stroked his head.
“Did she say why she wants to do that?” He rounded a turn and headed toward the cotton farm.
“She thinks it’ll help other artists. But what aboutus? We’re her family; we’re all she has.”
He pursed his lips the way she remembered him doing whenever he was thinking. “I’m not sure renting it would be the best idea. We don’t have a lot of tourists on this part of the lake. It’s kind of what makes it so great.”
“Tellherthat.”
“I might.” He pulled into the farm, the vast fields stretching out in front of them all the way to the shore. “I’m serious. That’s the very last thing I’d want.”
“Maybe she’ll listen to you,” Leigh said. “She won’t listen to Mama or me.”
“Okay, I’ll pull her aside at dinner.”
Then the truck came to a stop in the middle of the dirt road.
“What are we doing?”
“I promised you a ride,” he said, hopping out of the truck. Elvis followed, jumping down onto the dirt path. Colton went around and opened her door, taking her hand to help her out.
“How will we take a ride outside of the truck?”
He pointed to an enormous tractor with a large plow on the back of it that stretched halfway across the field. “We’re riding in the cultivator. I need to weed the fields so they don’t get overgrown.” He peered down at her flip-flops. “Piggyback?”
“You want to give me a piggyback ride across the field?”
“Unless you’d rather have Elvis do it.”
Elvis stopped sniffing the ground and peered up at them.
Colton leaned over and waved her toward him. “Gotta protect those pink toes of yours.”
“You really want to give me a ride in that thing?” She shook her head. “Aren’t your parents in the house? Don’t they need help with the casseroles?”
“Definitely not.” He waved her onto his back again. When she didn’t move, he righted himself. “We do have dinner to get to tonight,” he said, tapping his watch. “I need to get it done today. I’ve got two staff meetings tomorrow, and this field won’t plow itself.”
Against her better judgment, she jumped onto Colton’s back and he grabbed hold of her thighs, her feet dangling on either side of him. Elvis followed along as Colton stepped across the rows of planted cotton seeds, headed for the tractor. Her hands clasped around his broad shoulders, the stubble on his chin grazing her skin as she bumped through the immense fields. Never would she have thought she’d be doing this a week ago.
