Page 45 of Make it Real
I leaned closer to speak in her ear. “You want to caress the throttle using firm but gentle pressure—”
She hitched her elbow back, giving my stomach a light tap. “Hey, hey, this ATV ride is strictly G-rated.”
I gave her space again, shifting farther back on the seat. “I never agreed to that.”
Swiveling my way, she grinned. “Maybe PG-13.”
Didn’t have much time to consider the benefits of that adjustment before she’d hit the throttle again. This time, she kept it low and steady, letting us pick up speed. Relatively speaking. Eight miles an hour wouldn’t break the sound barrier, but it got us moving through the trees well enough.
“It’s so pretty out here!” she shouted back to me.
I guess it was. I’d never really looked at the orchards as scenery. A place of work, yes, a place I’d needed to escape as a teen, absolutely. Now, I saw a checklist of tasks—pruning, spraying, harvesting—more than the trees themselves.
But itwaspretty, cruising through the rows of green, with the rich brown earth underneath. Bright blue sky and wisps of cotton candy clouds spread thin overhead. Smelled good, too, the air filled with the sweet scent of peaches warming in the sun. I spent most of every day out here, but I hadn’t ever viewed it quite like this.
Callie laughed every time we jostled over a bump in the path like we were on a rollercoaster at an amusement park. I directed her to take a couple of turns until finally, the rows of peach trees were replaced by soapberries and red oaks. Driving beneath the branches of a sycamore, we reached an open area covered in long grass and a few stray scrub brushes.
She slowed the machine to a crawl. “Are we here?”
“We’re here. You can park us anywhere.”
Cranking the handlebars to bring us back around to some shade, she got the ATV situated beneath a tree and shut it down. We climbed off, and she wandered around in the grass that came up past her ankles. I let her explore while I shook the dust off the blanket and spread it out. Would have been nice to have a picnic lunch ready, too. Next time.
I joined her in the grass, where she spun a circle with her arms wide, one flowy skirt short of breaking into aSound of Musicchorus.
“It’s beautiful out here.” She stopped her spinning and faced me, lifting both hands up to her forehead to shade her eyes from the sun. “What’s it for?”
I beckoned her back into the shade before we got sunburned for our troubles. We sat on the blanket facing the grassy, open acres, the ATV enginetick-tick-tickingas it cooled down. She pulled her ankles up to sit crisscross—I stretched my legs out long and leaned back on my hands.
“Mom and Pop set the space aside when they planted this end of the orchards. It was meant to be for Wade, so when he took over the farm there’d be room for him to build a house. Pass the land and the business on to the next generation.”
She turned to me, her eyes soft. “But he’s not taking over the farm, is he?”
“Nope. He found his calling in firefighting. Then I went off to the Army, and June moved on to Austin. She’s back, and pretty well sorted out now, too.”
“What about you? Are you sorted out?”
Her gentle question snaked through me, only because I didn’t have an answer.
“I’m working on the farm, anyway. As soon as I came home again, Pop let me know I could have this land to build on whenever I wanted it.”
A generous gift, considering what two acres of land could go for around here.
Callie stared straight ahead, a smile tugging the corner of her mouth. “I can see it. A modern farmhouse with a wraparound porch. Or a craftsman bungalow with a big back porch for a bed swing. Maybe a cozy little ranch.”
“With a porch?”
“Obviously.”
I made a sound of agreement and laid back, resting my head on my laced fingers, elbows to the sides. Sparrows whistled in the trees, and I closed my eyes, trying not to imagine Callie’s vision for the property. Her enthusiasm snuck in anyway.
“Why haven’t you built a house out here yet?” she asked.
“I guess I’m just waiting for the right time.”
An excuse, but I didn’t have a better answer. I had the money—I’d never been a big spender, and I’d come out of my stint in the Army with a decent nest egg. But the house and the land and the job all rolled together in one neat package, and I didn’t know yet if I was ready to sign on that line.
The blanket rustled, and I cracked an eye open to see she’d laid out next to me, propped up on her side.
