Page 42 of Rough
~ 12 years ago ~ Remy
A few hours before I came to get Betsy, I washed the back side of the tank. When she did a fresh coat of paint, she did the whole thing, but her flowers only made it on the front.
Do I think it’s ridiculous to put flowers on a diesel tank? Absolutely, I do.
But it’s soherthat it makes me happy to do this for her.
I know we hurt her feelings earlier, and that doesn’t sit right with me. Clyde, Wilder, and I couldn’t give a shit if we upset anyone, including the girls at school. But Betsy is different. She’s our girl. When she’s upset, weallfeel it.
The moment we left her today, Clyde narrowed his eyes at me with one directive. “Fix it.”
I’ve known her for so long that I know the right way to get back into her good graces. Do something for her that makes her happy, something that’s important to her, no matter how silly I think it is.
Who the hell decorates a flipping farm? Betsy Harper, that’s who.
As she mixes her paints, I keep the light focused on her bucket without wavering and consider what I should say. I don’t necessarily disagree with what we said, but I can see how the delivery was wrong on every level. I don’t want to hurt her. We never want to hurt her.
“Bets, I wanna tell yo—”
“Remy, if you’re gonna say anything other than I’m sorry, I don’t wanna hear it.”
Swallowing, I nod at her. “I’m sorry for hurtin’ your feelin’s today. Wasn’t intentional.”
Dipping her brush into the green paint, I move the light to the side of the tank and watch as she starts brushing on lines of grass and stems with leaves for her imagined flower garden. She’s silent for a few minutes, but I know she needs time to process her thoughts sometimes.
Eventually, she responds. “So, you didn’t mean what you said about me not bein’ able to farm just ‘cuz I’m a girl?”
“It’s not that I don’t think you can do it ‘cuz you’re a girl. It’s… well, I mean youarea girl. What happens when you get married? You’re gonna take off and go wherever he is. It’s not somethin’ that makes sense. I won’t be forever.”
Her hand falls from the tank as she blinks up at me. Then, jabbing the green tip of the brush at me, her snarl makes me jerk back in surprise. “Who the hell says I’m marryin’ anyone? This ismyfarm. Well, it’s gonna be, eventually. I don’t give a shitwhoI marry. If they’re gonna get with me, they’re gonna work their asses off right here next to us. He don’t have to be an owner, and I got no plans of goin’ anywhere away from here. What happens whenyouget married? You plan on her bein’ part owner?”
I blink, surprised by her question. It’s not something we’d ever discussed, honestly. Scratching my face, I try to picture what that would look like. Clyde, Wilder, me, then three wives? “Can you even have six people own a farm together?”
Betsy sits back, mouthing the numbers as she counts, then glares at me. “You’restillnot countin’ me! You just counted you three and your supposed three wives. God, Rustic. Can you just for a one second consider that I want this too? I’m not gonna sell you the farm just to walk away with my so-calledhusband.”
Her body shivers when she says husband and I can’t help laughing, but her quick punch to my shoulder shuts me up. She hasn’t ever been interested in boys likethat.
“Okay, so no spouses then. We just gotta make sure we do this before any of us gets married and that way, none of themcan bitch about it. I’ll talk to the guys, and we’ll figure somethin’ out.”
“Thank you,” she clips, sniffing in annoyance. “Now, hold the light back up. I don’t wanna take too long in case Pap wakes up and decides to check on me.”
Crowding closer to her, I bump my shoulder against hers. “Hey…”
“What?” I can’t see her eyes clearly because of how dark it is, but I can feel her gaze locked on me.
Leaning closer so we’re eye level, I make sure she can see how serious I am. “I really am sorry. I don’t like it when your feelin’s are hurt. ‘Specially when it’s somethin’ I did or said.”
I’m shocked when she quickly moves forward and presses a kiss to my cheek. My jaw is slack when she sits back with a grin, then starts painting again like it was no big deal.
“I forgive ya, Rustic. I’ll always forgive ya.”
Chapter Seventeen
Betsy
Letting Lucy out the door ahead of me, I stand on my porch and take a sip of my coffee just as dawn starts showing proof that the sun will, in fact, rise once more.
Thankfully, I didn’t drink so much last night that I was left hungover this morning. It was just enough that once my head hit my pillow, I was out like a light.
