Page 130 of Heartland
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When I enter the farmhouse mud room a half hour later, Griffin is there, pulling off his boots. “Sorry for not knocking earlier,” he says again. “I just had no idea.”
“No big deal.”
“Kinda makes some sense,” Griffin says, walking into the kitchen.
“What does?” I call after him. “My freak-out last night?”
He turns around, squinting at me. “No, just you in general. With Chastity. We all need someone who doesn’t mind helping to carry our baggage.” He turns around again.
“I don’t have baggage,” I say to his back as he walks away.
“Uh-huh,” comes over his shoulder. “Sorry about the black eye.”
“Eh. It makes me look like a tough guy. Can we talk about Isaac’s farm?” I follow him into the kitchen.
He winces. “I thought you didn’t want to talk about farming? I was trying not to pressure you.”
“I know,” I grumble. “But my timing sucks. Dad wanted that land, right? But then he didn’t buy it. Do you know why?”
Griffin’s face fills with surprise. “Yeah, I do. Don’t you think this conversation requires coffee, though?”
“Sure.” I follow him to the coffee pot, and take two mugs out of the cabinet.
“Seven years ago, the Abrahams bought their farm from—”
“—Chasternak,” I supply.
“Right,” Griffin agrees. “It went on the market in May, right after a nasty frost that really hurt us.”
“Oh.” I don’t remember that, but Griffin would. He’s the orchard guy. He probably remembers the exact weather forecast on the day he got his first blowjob.
“Dad was worried about cash. It was one of those terrifying moments to be a farmer. There’s plenty of those.”
“I realize that, Griff.”
He gives me a wry grin. “Sorry. I’m working on it.”
“On what?”
He pours a cup of coffee and hands it to me. “It’s our age difference, Dyl. When I look at you I still see a six-year-old in Spider-Man pajamas. I don’t mean to patronize you. But I’m not used to thinking of you as an adult.”
“Okay.” I take a gulp of black coffee. The kind adults drink. “But you’re working on it. So the frost convinced Dad not to buy more land?”
“Yes and no. He said it was a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to buy adjoining farmland. But he was afraid to take on more debt when we were so cash-poor. And then Leah and Isaac showed up and made him a deal.”
“Okay. That land is worth more now, though,” I point out. One of our neighbors just sold a meadow we used to lease for grazing cows for a pile of money. “The parcel across the street—”
“—has million-dollar views,” Griffin says, cutting me off. “But Isaac’s place doesn’t.”
“How much is it worth?”
“Two fifty? Two sixty? But interest rates are really low right now.”
“Still. That’s a lot of money.”
“Yes and no. Dad was right about it being a once-in-a-lifetime opportunity. But now we have a chance at it, too. Isaac might even let us finance with him. That would save us bank fees.”
