"Nothing," Starlah quickly answered. "I came in here last night, and we somehow fell asleep. That's it, that's all."
"Is that your story, too, Swift?" his mother probed, her arms crossed. "I leave today, and the last thing I need to hear is you and Colt are at each other's throats about a misunderstanding."
"Nope, no misunderstanding at all, Mrs. Brighton."
"Well, alrighty then. Shall I let him in?"
Starlah looked at Swift, sighed, then looked at his mother.
"No, but tell him I'm coming out." She gently touched Swift's chest, then tucked her lips. "It's time I got this over with, right?"
Swift shrugged, completely confused that she'd ignored Colt for weeks, but after the time they'd spent, and not only the sex, that she even wanted to talk to him.
"Let me do this one time, please," Star pleaded.
London saw his jaw clench, but he quickly nodded. Swift wanted to challenge Star, but he couldn't. All he knew was that the gut punch she issued was a first for him, and although he knew she liked him, he also knew she and Colt had history. However, it was also a history he was afraid he couldn't compete with, so he wouldn't.
For a week,Swift did everything possible not to be at home when Starlah was. If she was there, he'd go out back and help Peyton with the horses or even run around with Chevy and Papa as they practiced guarding the livestock. Never in his life had a woman hurt his feelings, let alone walk out on him after the time he'd spent with her. After he showered, he decided to take a ride to his grandmother's house. Logan was there less, and his mother had finally flown back to Cedar Spike.
"Finally, you remember you have a grandmother, huh?" his granny sassed, hands on her hips.
Swift pecked her forehead and grinned.
"My handsome grandbaby. Come on out back. I have peas to pick," Granny instructed when she heard a lot of barking outside.
"That's Papa."
"I see."
Granny opened the screened door, and there he sat, wagging his tail. Papa had learned to sit and not move after a slow nod from Swift. He'd been researching on YouTube and Google, and with repetition, Papa and Chevy had caught on quickly. Swift almost felt guilty, leaving Chevy at the farm, but he needed to be away from anything or anyone that reminded him of Starlah.
"You couldn't get you a prissy little something, huh? I thought you were a ladies' man."
She waved Papa inside, but he looked at Swift, who waved his hand once. He took off until Swift called his name.
"Chill, Papa, before you break something."
Papa began walking around, sniffing the furniture, Granny's huge bible on the living room table, and her ceramic pieces, familiarizing himself with their home. It was a two-story, four-bedroom home built by Swift's great-grandfather and passed down to his grandfather. On any given holiday, there'd be easily twenty people piled up there, eating and having fun.
"Hungry?" Granny asked.
Swift wasn't. He hadn't had an appetite, but he'd never share that information with her. Besides, she'd make him eat anyway.
"What you got?"
"Chili. Something fast and leftover from last night. Tonight is smoked turkey wings, pole beans, yellow rice, and sweet rolls."
"On a Thursday?"He laughed, following her into the kitchen.
The furniture was dated but clean and in great condition. In fact, everything they sat on was made by Swift's grandfather, who was a carpenter by trade. He came from hard-working people, something he took great pride in.
Swift also felt bad that he hadn't gone to the mechanic's shop. He didn't want to see Colt and smash his face, so he had Cassie running the office and checking in customers.
"Let me warm it up on the stove. You know I don't believe in them damn microwaves." Granny whispered, looking around. "I think they cause cancer and all kinds of stuff. Mhmm, I told my children that. Your granddaddy thinks differently, but it doesn't matter. This right here is my domain. While this warms up, let's go outside."
As soon as they went to the backyard, Papa had jetted out the door. Their land wasn't as big as the Steels' farm, but there was plenty of yard where she grew her own vegetables. At seventy, Granny moved around like a younger woman and never caught a cold.
"Here." She handed him a bag. "You remember how to pick beans, don't you?"
