Maizie mentally danced through her routine. Everything was perfect, except for the ending. She just couldn’t seem to get it right. Maybe another spin? Then land in the splits?
Her phone interrupted her train of thought, and she slipped.
“Ugh,” she grumbled, swiping it open. “Hello.”
“Hey, Dad said you were coming to trade me off. Are you almost here?” Mitchell said, he sounded tired. Maizie glanced at the time. It was already three. Shoot.
“I’ll be right there.” She hung up and left the barn.
Thankfully, Dad still wasn’t awake. Mom must have snuck in and changed his alarm clock so he would sleep longer. The house was quiet, and Maizie snatched the bag of sandwiches and ran out the door.
Jayce and Mitchell had finished in the north field and were all helping Christian in Grandpa’s field. The progress they had made was impressive but there were easily a few more hours left to go.
The tractors each stopped as she approached, and Maizie laughed to herself as the three boys stepped out of the tractor and stretched their backs almost in unison. Working out in the sun all day was one thing. But being confined to a rough and bumpy ride in a tractor for hours on end was a different kind of beast completely. Her eyes lingered on Christian’s broad shoulders and exhausted steps before she tore them away.
“Thank heavens.” Jayce took a sandwich and a water bottle and fell to the ground in the shade of the truck. “I thought your dad was trying to kill us.”
Her dad could go for days, it seemed, without eating and often forgot the people working with him might need sustenance.
Mitchell grabbed a sandwich and hopped on the four-wheeler, not even bothering to say thank you.
Maizie handed Christian a sandwich, then took one herself. They sat in silence, each too hungry and tired to speak.
“How’s your eye?” Christian asked her.
Maizie looked up. She liked the concerned side of him. Maybe if she was nicer, she’d see it more often.
“It’s all right,” Maizie said. “It doesn’t hurt that bad, just looks pretty nasty.”
Jayce finally looked at her. “Whoa, what the heck happened?”
“Christian hit me.” Maizie tried to keep the smile from creeping onto her face.
“What?” Jayce yelled.
“I did not. I just tried to throw her through the window,” Christian said with a gleam in his eyes. How could his eyes possibly be bluer than they were this morning?
“As long as you didn’t hit her.” Jayce must have guessed there was a joke between them. “I’d have to kill you if you did.”
“I’d like to see you try,” Christian taunted.
“I could take you with my eyes closed,” Jayce retorted.
What was it with boys and competitions?
“Stop comparing muscles. I can take care of myself.”
Jayce scoffed. “Then why didn’t you punch your jerk of a boyfriend in the nose when he threw you into the pond?”
Maizie stiffened at the reminder.
“I didn’t need to punch him,” Maizie said, defending herself.
“I told you he wasn’t good enough for you,” Jayce said.
“Well, you’re my cousin, so you probably don’t think anyone is good enough for me,” Maizie said.
“I didn’t say that.” He shot back at her.
