Page 116 of Heartland
My brother lets out a string of additional curses, and I inwardly groan. He’s going to make this my fault. As if you couldn’t run over a nail anywhere.
“If you’d just taken the fucking road like I asked you to—”
“Enough!” I shout. “Can we just fix this while I’m still young?” I put my hands on the rear of the tractor again, ready to push.
“A hundred and sixty-seven dollars, Dylan. That’s the price of the tire if I take it in myself,” Griffin rants.
“Iknow, Jesus.”
“Do you?” he presses.
“Yes! I’m not happy about the goddamn tire, Griff. Let’s just get the tractor home. It’s Christmas Eve, for fuck’s sake.”
“You think I don’t know that? I was trying to get it all done ahead of time. If you’d just taken the road like I asked you to—”
I let out a roar and push with every ounce of my pent-up anger. The tractor moves about a foot and a half.
“Daphne, you can go,” Griffin snaps. “We’ll handle this.”
Oh fuck. Just what I need—more alone time with an angry Griff. And my twin—that traitor—hops off the tractor and strides toward the house. “Why’d you do that? If we get ’er out of the mud, we can drive it even on that bum tire.”
Griffin shakes his head. “Let the ground freeze tonight. It will be easier to drive off it.”
“Either that, or the tire will befrozen in place.” I stand up tall, aligning my spine properly for the first time in fifteen minutes. “Can’t we just fix this now? I don’t want to sit through a whole night of you bitching at me over this.”
“Then maybe you should have just done what I asked.”
My blood boils. I feel dangerously angry. “Question—how many times have you gotten tractors stuck? A dozen? Did you give yourself a lecture, too?”
“Sure.” Griffin snorts. “I don’t spare myself the colorful words.”
“I can’t do this, Griff.” I look up at the deep, cloudy sky. There’s too much churning inside me right now to hold it in. “There’s a reason I haven’t declared a major, and I haven’t decided whether my future plans include this farm. And that reason is you.”
Griffin’s lets out an angry grunt. “Really? You want to have that conversation now?”
“Why not? It’s your favorite topic.” I give the bum tire a kick.
“You act like I torture you for fun, Dyl. But nothing about this is fun. There are big decisions to make around here.”
“Yeah, and you make them all. Just do me this one favor—if you’re going to sell off the rest of the herd before I graduate, can you just level with me? Don’t make me come home one day and be surprised.”
Griffin’s chin jerks up, and his scowl deepens. “You really think I’d do that?”
“You’d like to,” I say slowly. “Last time, you asked all of us whether we thought you should sell the other herd. We all said no. And then you did it anyway.”
“That wasnecessary. I’ve increased our revenue by a hundred percent! And you’re still mad?”
“What I am istired. It’s like you forgot you were ever in college. Here’s a refresher—you joined a fraternity and played football and drank beer. You didn’t spend all your time trying to figure out your future on the farm.”
“I don’tenjoynagging you,” my brother growls. “But what choice do I have? There are decisions to be made. Big ones. And you claim to care about this place, so…”
“Claim?” I bellow. “You arrogant fuck! I care as much as you do. But I know it doesn’t matter what I think, or how I feel. You’re going to make all the choices, and I’m going to have to fall in line. Forever, basically. You talk as though I’m just too scattered to figure myself out.”
“Aren’t you?”
“No!” I roar. “I just can’t picture spending the next forty years trying to make you happy. You’re exhausting. So I quit. Make all the decisions you want. I’m done.”
“What?” Griffin actually gasps. “No, Dyl. That’s not how you make a choice.”
