She doesn’t laugh. As a matter of fact, she’s acting sort of solemn. “I’d be upset too.”
After that, Isabelle lays her head back on the seat and falls asleep. It’s a good thing. She needs the rest. I miss talking to her the rest of the way home though. At least she’s beside me. I like having her with me. What would life be like with Isabelle by my side?
I know the answer. It’d be perfect.
28
Isabelle
Eleven days have passedsince my dad’s accident, and my life has changed so much. He’s out of the hospital after spending eight days total there. Infection caused him to spend several extra days, but he recovered, thankfully. After that, they transported him to a rehabilitation facility in Ankeny, Iowa. It was the best place for his type of injury and one that specializes in training Dad how to use a prosthetic arm. Mom is staying with a distant cousin who happens to live only fifteen minutes from the place so she can be there for him.
It’s strange being at the farm without them. I miss them something awful, but I’ve kept myself busy working half days at school and the rest at the farm. My principal and the superintendent of schools was more than happy to work with me until things settle down at the farm. Thanks to help from our neighbors, the crops were harvested in time. Watching all those people work together to help my dad was seriously emotional. Farmers are a family. I know you hear about them banding together when something like this happens, but seeing it firsthand, well, it’s humbling. While the guys, plus a few girls and women, worked in the fields, many of the wives and kids brought food and drinks to feed the large group.
I worked with Ben to keep track of the fields that had been cleared, deciding how much of the seed we needed to keep for next year, all while organizing the transportation to the elevators that will buy it. The prices have been up and down due to the threat of tariffs, so we have the option of selling now or storing the yield until we’re assured of a good price. And price matters. It’s how we stay in the farming business. Even, or maybe especially, with a farm this size, if prices are too low, we can’t afford to operate.
“Bruce wanted to sell now,” says Ben.
“I know he did.” I tap a pen against my chin. “But I’m going to store two-thirds of the corn and soybeans.” We had a good yield this year, so sending a third off to market will be enough to keep us going.
“But, Bruce—” Ben starts to say again.
“I know, Ben, but prices dropped again. The market is all over the place. I’d rather hold steady.”
Ben’s getting a little agitated. “But what if it keeps dropping? Maybe we should call your dad. Or ask Nash.”
Now, see, this is what I’m talking about. I’m not so sure Ben would be suggesting that if I were a man. What if it were Isaac making the decision? Don’t get me wrong, Ben is a good guy; he’s just set in his ways. “Ben,” I say in my most serious voice, “I’m in charge now. My dad gave me the authority to make this kind of decision. If you want to call him, go ahead. I don’t mind that you’re not sure about me, but this won’t work if you don’t trust me.”
I watch as Ben pulls his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few buttons then holds the phone over his ear. I listen as he talks to my dad. Sure, I should be angry with Ben, but he’s loyal to my father and he wants the farm to be successful. My hope is my dad will assure him that I know what I’m doing. We’ll see….
When he ends the call, Ben looks at me sheepishly. His cheeks have taken on a pink cast. “I’m sorry, Isabelle.” I’m not sure what he means by that, so I wait. “Your dad said you were right.”
I knew he would say that even if he actually thinks I’m wrong. “Okay. So, we’re storing two-thirds.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben nods and gives me a thumbs-up.
* * *
After everyone leaves,I make my way back up to the house. It’s Thursday and I’m exhausted. Working two jobs hasn’t been easy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Opening up the kitchen door, the first thing I notice is the smell of garlic and onions. “Hello?” I say as I drop my boots by the back door. Entering the kitchen, I smile when I catch a glimpse of Andi reading at my mom’s kitchen table. “Hey, Andi.” The two of them have been here almost every night. By the time I’m done on the farm, Nash has had dinner ready and waiting for me. We’ve sort of reversed roles, except for the fact that Nash has his own farm to run. So, he works there all day, then comes to my folks’ place and feeds me. I’d feel guilty about it if I didn’t enjoy it so much. I mean, he’s got to eat, right? He’d cook at home anyway, why not do it here?
“Hi, Izzy.”
Looking over toward the kitchen, I smile again and nearly melt when I see Nash wearing one of my mom’s aprons as he drains pasta from a large pot into a strainer. “Honey, I’m home!” I say with a laugh.
Nash plays right along. “Isabelle, how was your day, dear?”
It makes me laugh. “Good. I need a shower.”
“Go ahead. I’m waiting on the garlic bread. You’ve got ten minutes.”
Sweet. “Okay.” I turn toward the stairs and move up as fast as my tired, sore legs will take me. In the bathroom, I strip out of my coveralls, then remove my jeans, tee, and socks. Turning on the water, I step beneath the spray and moan. My body aches, for sure, but hot water does wonders to ease that soreness. After I wash my hair and body, I spend a few minutes shaving. When I’m all clean, I step out and wrap myself up in a towel. I run a small dry towel through my hair to squeeze out the excess water. I’ve been too tired to do anything with my hair lately, so I’ve been letting it airdry; then I put it up in a ponytail or a bun. That’s it. I don’t bother with makeup either. What’s the point?
Pulling a comb through my hair, I brush my teeth and apply moisturizer to my face and body. In my towel, I step out of the bathroom so I can head to my bedroom, but the minute I’m in the hallway, I run into a hard chest. “Nash,” I say, startled.
“Isabelle.” Nash’s voice is deep and rich.
I look up at him, expecting to see a smile or even a smirk. That’s not what I see. He looks serious. “What’s wrong?”
Without a word, I feel him nudge me until my back is against the wall. Next, he slides one hand behind my neck and into my wet hair. I know what’s coming, so I close my eyes and wait for his beautiful lips to touch mine. When they do, his kiss is hungry. He’s never kissed me quite like this before. I open for him, and his tongue sweeps deep into my mouth. I lift my arms and wrap them around his neck to pull us closer together. However, I didn’t think that through because my hands were necessary for keeping my towel up. I feel it move downward, past my chest. I attempt to press closer to him to keep it from slipping the rest of the way, but he’s already stepping back. When the towel hits the floor, I’m not sure what I expect. Oh, yeah, I am. I expect him to turn and run as soon as he sees me in all my naked glory, but he doesn’t do that. Instead, he growls as he runs his palm over his pants. The front of his pants. “My god, Isabelle.”
