“Oh. Okay. So she hasn’t had any more anxiety attacks?” He asked.
“No. I think the fresh air and exercise has been good for her. For me too. We’ve been trying to get outside every night,” his mom said.
“Well, that’s good.” He frowned. Why did it feel like they’d somehow moved on without him?
“Are you having a good time?” His mom seemed so happy, he didn’t want to rain on her parade.
“Yeah of course. Everything down here is so. . .*fun.” Wow he was a terrible liar.
“That’s good, sweetie. Oh. I’ve got to go. Cindy is calling.”
“Cindy who?” Christian asked, but the line went dead. He should be happy his mom and sister were doing so well, but he just felt like more of a failure. If all Emi had needed was some exercise, Christian should have taken her to the park more, played basketball with her. But last year he’d been too busy with Caroline, and his sister had suffered because of it.
Christian scrubbed a hand down his face. He’d lied to his mom. He wasn’t enjoying the farm, not lately anyway. Maizie was impossible.
Granted, he wasn’t a prince either. But she just brought out the worst in him. If she wasn’t commanding him or belittling him, she was ignoring him. Which is what she had been doing for the past four days. She had conveniently pawned her jobs off on him and Jayce while she did other things. Like graduate. But it was fine. At least he could always count on her making an excuse to get away from him.
“Hey, boys.” Uncle Eric wandered into the farmhouse. He snagged a fresh poppyseed muffin Grandma had just baked then turned to them.
“I need your help baling hay. A storm is coming in, so we need to get it all done today if possible.”
Christian had noticed how much the impending storms affected the farmers around here. They all prayed for rain, but then cursed it if it came at the wrong time. It was confusing to say the least.
“Jayce, I need you to get on the blue tractor in the north field. Mitchell is already on the red one out there.”
Jayce nodded his understanding.
“Christian,” Eric turned to him. “I’ve got Maizie out in Grandpa’s field, but she needs a break. She’ll teach you how to drive it, then you can take over for her.”
Christian froze with his muffin halfway to his mouth. “Uh…”
“Don’t worry, you’ll be fine. Just don’t break anything.” Eric’s dry chuckle only added to the worry creeping up Christian’s throat.
“Which one is Grandpa’s field again?” Christian asked Eric.
Eric mumbled something then pulled a pen from his pocket and started drawing on his own hand. “Head left, then when you come to a fork in the road, go right,” Eric drew what looked like chicken scratch on his large palm. “Maizie is up in the North corner, you’ll need to take the west road and wind around the ditch; it tends to come out of nowhere. Finish the north end, then weave back around for the south end. Got it?”
Christian peaked at the drawing again. Clear as mud, as Grandpa would say.
He swallowed, hopefully he didn’t screw this up too bad. “Yep.”
* * *
Maizie could barely keepher eyes open. It was only eight in the morning, but she had been out on the field baling with her dad since 2 a.m. As much as Maizie hated to miss sleep, it was peaceful to be alone in a tractor surrounded by nothing but stars. Thankfully, her dad always gave her the tractor with the best radio, and she used it to keep herself awake. Singing along and choreographing dances in her head to whatever ballads or old-time rock came on the radio at four in the morning.
But as soon as the sun came up, everything became less exciting. The music was just that. Not her own concert with thousands of screaming fans to keep her awake. It should have been easier to stay awake during the daytime, but for some reason, it always put her to sleep. Probably because she was naturally a night owl. Her parents often joked that Maizie didn’t come alive until ten at night. And she had been that way since she was a baby, jabbering in her crib, until Mack woke up, then sleeping in until noon.
The remaining hay left to be baled was a depressing sight. She had made a dent since two, but that was all it had been. A dent.
Out of the corner of her eye, Maizie noticed a four-wheeler weaving through the field, leaving a trail of dust in its wake. She heaved a sigh of relief. Her dad had sent Jayce to trade her off.
But. . . that wasn’t Jayce. She forced her eyes open wider, begging them to bring her a different image this time. Nope. Stillhim.
Christian pulled to a stop at the end of the row of hay she was on. She slowed the tractor even more than its already snail speed, delaying her interaction with him as long as possible.
She was tempted to turn and head back down the next row, pretending she hadn’t seen him. But he was the only other person in this field and impossible to miss. She threw her left foot into the clutch, then stepped on the brake with her right, using her body weight to force the beast to come to a full stop. She shoved its finicky gear shift into park, turned off the tractor, then poked her head out the door.
“Are you taking over?”
