“You, Sugar Britches. You are.”
My daughter grins. “Thank you, Grandad.”
“Of course.”
Harper shakes her head. “I don’t think anything from that tree isn’t rotten.”
I can definitely attest that there’s nothing rotten about Lark. She’s sweet, and I enjoyed taking a bite of her fruit.
No way in hell I’m saying that.
I plan to get another taste in about four hours.
Sadie looks to me. “Do you think that, Dad?”
This is one of those moments where I wonder whether my daughter is genuinely curious about this or if she’s just being a little shit-stirrer. Knowing her, it’s the second option. However, she’s never going to let me walk out of this conversation.
“I think that disliking people without a reason isn’t the right thing. Lark was nice to you, wasn’t she?” Sadie nods. “Then I think you should be nice back. Regardless of what people say.”
“Unless I say it. Then you listen to me,” Dad tells her.
“Don’t listen to him.” Both Harper and I jump in at the same time and then laugh.
My father huffs. “Sure, that they agree on.”
“Sorry, Pop, we’ve learned that you are not often the voice of reason.” I look back at my daughter. “Doing the right thingwhen no one is looking is what I consider the makings of a good person.”
He waves me off and then turns to face Sadie. “Except if they’re a Gatlin. Then we hate them.”
It’s not worth the eternal fight. Sadie is a smart girl, and she’ll do the right thing.
My hope is that she won’t see Lark anyway. The more we can keep the families apart, the better.
We eat, talking about the plans for the week and an upcoming auction. Harper goes over some of the costs she’s concerned about, and Dad, being Dad, weighs in with his usual unhelpful advice.
My father ran this farm for sixty years, but things have changed, and he’s refused to adapt. He thinks all the new technology is useless and stupid, but it’s allowed us to streamline sales and other parts of our business. We keep better records and are more aware of what’s needed instead of guessing like my father did in his day.
Still, he holds a great amount of knowledge, and he’s more than earned my respect. So I never shoot his ideas down or refuse him the floor. I just don’t always listen, because it’s not the same farm that he built.
Just like it wasn’t when he took over from my grandad or his grandad before him.
“Dinner was great, pumpkin,” Dad tells Harper.
“Thanks, Daddy.” She leans down and kisses his forehead. “Why don’t you go rest.”
“Nah, I’m too old to rest.” He turns to Sadie. “How about we work on sprucing up the goat pen next?”
Sadie grins. “It would be my pleasure.”
“Good. We’ll use your dad’s credit card this time.”
And I can go work on the field before spending the night at the ridge.
I get to the ridge earlier than I expected. Sadie went to bed early, and I told everyone I was going out for a ride and would see them in the morning.
This isn’t something I do often, but still frequently enough that I didn’t get shit for it.
Well, other than the underhanded comments from my daughter about how nice it is for me to be able to ride.
