“Slow but steady. We’ll get there.”
Though our cut-your-own-tree operations wouldn’t open for six weeks, we had a shit ton to do before then, including going through acres of trees and pricing the ones that were ready to sell. That was a project one of us full-timers had to do, but harvesting the trees that would be shipped out for wholesale demanded lots of hands and was time sensitive. Our seasonal crew would help out with that once they went through training.
“You taking off soon?” I asked him.
Gage nodded. “Got a hot date tonight.” He raised his brows till they nearly touched the beanie he usually wore once it wasn’t ninety in the shade.
“Go on then. Good luck, man.”
“I’ll bring the battery in with me tomorrow.”
“Thanks. See you then.”
As Gage walked to his truck, I noticed my dad and my six-year-old daughter making their way in my direction, holding hands. When I waved, Addie looked up at her grandfather and said something. At his nod, she dropped his hand and ran toward me, lightening my mood like not much could.
“Daddy!”
When she reached me, long before my dad did, I hoisted her forty-eight pounds into my arms.
“Hey, doodlebug, how was school?”
Addie threw her arms around me, her grin big and happy. “It was super awesome. I got Star Speller for the week!”
“What? No way.”
“Yes way.” She giggled, meeting my gaze with her big brown eyes. They were the one feature she got from her mother, Jessie, who was full-time military but spent any time off she could with our daughter. The arrangement worked for all three of us.
“How’d you do that?” I asked Addie. “I’m not sure a Durham has ever been Star Speller before.”
“I practiced and practiced, and you quizzed me, and Pops quizzed me, and I learned all the words.”
I hugged her tight, proud of her achievement, then lowered her to the ground as my dad approached.
“What the hell is Gary doing here?” he asked.
I glanced in the direction of the truck in need of repair, even though I couldn’t see it from here. “Alternator went out in the delivery truck.”
He glared at me as I’d known he would.
“Replacing an alternator is the last thing your back needs, Dad,” I said before he could come at me.
“Gary doesn’t come cheap, especially after hours.”
“He’s worth every penny if it means you don’t hurt extra for the next week.”
“I’d be fine. I don’t need to be babied.”
“I’m looking out for you since you don’t look out for yourself,” I said, my jaw tight.
“I look out for myself just fine. Quit trying to shut me out of everything. I’m not dead yet. I can’t lift, but I can repair.”
Could and should were two different things. My dad’s doctor had told him no more farm work after his second back surgery hadn’t eliminated his pain. He still struggled with his forced retirement, but Addie gave him a new purpose. Having him at home to care for her took a load of worry away. He might grumble, but our arrangement was win-win-win.
“You know Gary’s trustworthy. I have a meeting about the barn in—” I checked my watch. “Hell. Five minutes ago. I gotta run. You guys good?”
“Just came out to share her news,” my dad said, an unmistakable sparkle of pride in his eyes for his granddaughter.
Addie did a dance at my side and made up a song about Star Speller. I leaned down and kissed the top of her coffee-brown head.
