Page 55 of For Love Or Honey

She turned too fast for us to catch her expression. “That is none of your business.”

“What about the contract?” I asked.

She didn’t answer right away, pretending she was busy changing. “He made some good points.”

Poppy and Daisy burst into objections. I kept my mouth shut. Because Grant had too.

Mama watched me for a second, and when my sisters saw where she was looking, they turned on me.

I put up my hands. “Don’t start on me. She’s the one kissing the devil.”

“You used to say Grant was the devil,” Poppy shot.

“And then I met his dad and learned better. Did you know that the equipment on the Kohler’s farm is already up and functional, and they’d use that site to drill our land? The damage is done. But we could make money off it, money we could use to help Lindenbach.”

“I cannot believe you just said that,” Poppy breathed. “You two are a couple of Judases. The Stones tossed a bag of silver at you, and you’re turning your back on what you know is right.”

“Oh, stop it,” I said. “I didn’t say I wanted to do it, only that he made good points.”

Mama nodded. “See?”

“Don’t you go acting like I agree with you, Mama.”

“Quit talking outta both sides of your mouth, Jo. It’s not a pretty look.”

I sighed. “It’s not the same.”

“Name me one way it’s different,” she challenged.

“I trust Grant,” I said.

“I trust Merrick.”

“How? You’ve known him for three days.”

“And you think you know everything there is to know about Grant in that many weeks? It’s a gut feeling. Don’t tell me it’s not.” She turned back to her task. “Don’t you three have getting ready to do? The boys will be here any minute.”

“You can’t sell to him, Mama,” Poppy said.

But Mama’s face darkened. “Don’t you tell me what I can and can’t do. I am a grown woman and your mother. I have no intentions of selling without talking to you first, but I’m perfectly capable of making my own decisions. Now, you go get the horses ready—”

The doorbell interrupted her, and she jolted in surprise.

“Shoot—I need a minute. I’ll meet you in the stables.” When we didn’t immediately leave, she shooed us out.

We didn’t speak on our way, the subject too big to open up on the way to answer the door. And on our front porch was the enemy. But for a second, I couldn’t remember which man that was.

Grant’s dour expression lit when he saw me, but we didn’t move for each other, instead exchanging pleasantries before heading toward the stables.

For a moment, no one spoke in an awkward stretch of silence that Daisy eventually broke.

“So do y’all ride?”

“Not much,” Merrick said. “But we do from time to time.”

Conversation halted again. All I could think to talk about was how stupid Merrick looked in chinos. His shoes were at least workable.

“Well,” Daisy said on a second go, “we have six horses in the stable, and I hate we don’t ride more. But there always seems like something to do.”

“How many stablehands do you have?” Merrick asked.

Daisy’s cheeks flushed in embarrassment. “Oh, we have one farmhand who helps with the animals, but nothing like stablehands really.”

“Ah,” was all he said.

Mercifully, we reached the stable and its familiar scent of wood and hay and animal. The horses nickered when they smelled us, and my sisters and I made our way around the animals, greeting them. We’d gotten them all brushed and saddled in advance of the men, and now I figured we’d done them a favor to not put them on the spot.

I cursed myself for not thinking to set Merrick up to look a fool in front of Mama. I didn’t think he’d take well to a high-school-educated woman like Mama showing him how to do something a man was supposed to know how to do, despite his lack of experience. Like how the world expected them to work out, be tall, and only have emotions that end in angry.

We wouldn’t have faulted him, but I got the sense he’d have faulted himself and taken it out on us somehow.

Poppy smiled like a liar, but Merrick wouldn’t have known. She took him down the line and introduced each horse, saving Boris for last. And Daisy and I did our best to keep our faces straight.

Boris was so tall, Merrick couldn’t see clearly over his shoulders, and so dark a brown that he was nearly black. On their approach, he stamped his hoof and chuffed, keeping his eye on Merrick.

What the unsuspecting interloper didn’t know was that Boris was the meanest horse this side of the Comal River.

“Fine looking animal,” he said.

“Glad you think so. I think he’d be perfect for your ride today,” Poppy said.

Grant watched with curiosity blooming to understanding. I thought I might get in trouble when he figured it out, but instead, we shared a wicked look, and I counted myself among the lucky.

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