Page 62 of Rough
You’re a traitor.
LOL
You know what you’ve done. That chocolate sheet cake recipe will never be yours.
Now Betsy, honey... Let’s not be rash. That disgusting woman was driving me insane and I knew she’d get hers if I gave her over to you.
TRAITOR!
LOL
Rolling my eyes, I shut off my screen and clench my phone, then look up only to find Remy staring hard at me. “What?”
“Who you textin’, Bets?” His head is tilted to the side in curiosity, arms slowly crossing over his chest.
Pointing at him, I give him the best glare I can. “I’ll tell you if you get her, and yourselves, outta here.”
“Fine. We’ll go.” I open my mouth to thank him, but he adds, “Fornow. We’ll be back to helpverysoon.” His eyes find David, a very unsubtle warning written all over his face.
Wilder snorts in agreement. “And then you and I are gonna have that conversation.”
“In your dreams,” I hiss, jamming my hat on my head. “David, you ready? My guests are leaving.” I’m sure he’s enjoying all of this drama when he starts chuckling softly, hiking his bag higher over his shoulder.
“I don’t want to leave.”
There’s a pang in my chest; Clyde’s sadness unhidden from everyone. I want to rub it away, but instead fist my hands at my sides. Working my jaw, I walk toward the field, having to pass him by to get there. As I come up next to him, I keep my voice low, knowing my words are going to dig deep and fester.
“Go on, Clyde. You’ve never had a problem leavin’ me before.”
His abrupt intake of air is enough to know I’ve hit my mark. It should have felt good, but it only makes me feel sick. Sick from the truth of my words, because that’s what he does. He always seems to leave me, in so many more ways than the other two ever have. When I meet his heavy-lidded eyes for only a moment as I brush past him, I see a promise swirling in the shadows.
My throat is tight as I swallow against my disappointment with him and leave them all behind, with David trailing me quietly. As soon as I hear car doors slam and an engine start, I let my shoulders relax.
“Sorry ‘bout that, David.” I’m not sure what else there is to say. It hits me that this kind of working arrangement is going to get personal very quickly, and it’s a bit unnerving to be honest.
He’s quiet for a few moments as we pick our way through the field toward my herd. Eventually, his kind voice fills the growing awkwardness. “It’s really gorgeous out here.”
I slow my pace until we’re standing in the very center, the light breeze tickling my cheeks and the sun keeping the slight chill at a minimum. Breathing in slowly, I look around and try tosee it through fresh eyes. “It is. I’ve lived here since before I can remember, and I’ve never wanted to be anywhere else. There’s a scent you can’t find anywhere, and it just wraps you up.”
“Manure?” I grin at his joke while he looks around again. “You know, it’s not my first time in this kind of environment. My boyfriend grew up in this small town in Wisconsin. They wintered trail horses for camps and trail riding. A bit of dairy farming as well, but I don’t think they had more than what you’ve got here.”
“Aah, dairy cows are no joke. Pap considered it for maybe a week, but those hours will wear you down after a while. That’s why he went with raisin’ beef. Still a lot of work, but it’s different.”
He nods in understanding, then picks up his camera and starts snapping photos, checking them every few clicks of the shutter. Eyeing me as I watch silently, he seems to resolve himself to something when he nods his head once. “Listen, you don’t need to apologize for what happened back there. I can tell it’s a messy situation, but you’re holding your own.” He snaps another few photos, then asks, “You, uhh, you used to date one of them?”
The snort that comes out is so harsh I start coughing, covering my mouth. “No.” A flash of Clyde moving over me in the dark pinches my chest again, quickly followed by flashes of an illicit kiss from another one of them, then memories of unrequited feelings for the last one. I shove them down deep. “No.” This time, it’s softer when I deny it. “We all grew up together. They were my best friends.”
“Were?”
I don’t want to say yes, so I choose not to answer. He walks a few feet away from me and starts taking more photos, this time including me in the frame. Shakily, I tuck some stray hairs that have escaped my braid behind my ear and try not to stare at thesun glaring off the end of his lens. Pulling it down, he comes back to me and shows me a few of the shots.
“Can I ask why you’re angry at them? I saw the video Trina posted, but I’m not entirely sure what it was about.”
I want to tell him everything, unload this mess and all the disappointment I’ve had over the past week and a half, but I hesitate. Throughout our entire life, I’ve never allowed people to talk shit about them, shutting it down the second I hear anything negative. It doesn’t feel right to air out their sins with a stranger. The hurts they’ve given me are mine and mine alone.
“It’s nothin’ personal, but I’d rather not. I’ll just say that things between us aren’t the same anymore.”
David flashes a sympathetic smile. “Understood. I won’t ask for details, but it seems as though they’re awfully sorry about something. Am I right?”
