by Kayt Miller
With a groan and a sigh, Nash stops kissing my neck and lays his head down on his pillow. His hands are still on my ass, and I don’t hate it. He’s running them up and down each cheek, and it feels damn good. I could get used to it, that’s for sure. “You’re right. Sorry, honey.”
His endearments are starting to get to me. I love them, all of them, but he needs to stop. Actually, he needs to stop a lot of things. I’m getting confused about what we’re doing here. He’s taking this act of us being “together” to a whole new level, but I’ll worry about that later––after we know my dad is going to be okay.
Shit. My dad. I’ve been here humping my neighbor while my poor dad is lying in intensive care with one less arm. The guilt is instantaneous. How could it not be? I quickly scoot over Nash and stand. “I’m going to the restroom; then I’m going to check on my dad.”
Nash nods but says nothing.
On my way out to the ICU, I go the long way around the pod room, so Nash doesn’t see me and decide to come along. I need to have a few minutes to myself.
Mom’s awake, sitting in the only chair in Dad’s room. It’s a recliner like the one in the pod. She’s got the thing extended as far as it can go and a pillow tucked behind her head. There’s a blanket thrown over her legs, but she’s wide awake. “Can’t sleep?” I whisper it so I don’t disturb my father.
Her voice sounds so tired. “I’ve been dozing. The nurses are in here every few minutes, so sleep isn’t happening, which is fine because I don’t want to sleep. I want to be sure I’m here when he wakes up.”
Dad hasn’t really woken up since the surgery, but that was by design. The docs don’t want him to wake up and jostle around too much. He lost the majority of his arm in the accident, but they had to remove more of it during surgery. His entire right arm is gone now. But he’s alive, and that’s all that matters. The rest can be figured out later.
“Did the cardiologist come in?” I’ve been worried about his heart ever since Mom told me about the CPR.
Mom nods. “They said his tests all came back negative. They called it an episode, and they’re pretty confident it was related to the shock. But they want to monitor him and follow up after he’s released.”
“That’s good news.” Such good news.
She nods, but there’s no relief in her face. “But there’s still the worry about infection.”
I nod because I listened to the docs as they talked about that. It’s their biggest concern right now.
“Once they’re sure there isn’t any infection, he’ll have to stay in a rehabilitation facility for some time afterward.”
“Why?”
“Occupational and physical therapy.” She sighs. “They’ll start fitting him for a prosthesis at the two-week mark, so the place we go to has to be a specialty rehab place. We’ll try to find one close to home because… the farm.”
I guess that makes sense. I know there aren’t any rehab places in Honeywell. I suspect there’s something in Emmetsville, but it may not be right for Dad’s situation. They may have to stay in Iowa City. I reach out and take her hand. “I’ve got the farm under control. No worries. I’ve already talked to Ben.”
Now she smiles. And her eyes start to shine. “Oh, honey, I know you’ll take care of everything there. Your dad can rest easy knowing you’ve got things under control. Thank you, sweetheart.”
“You can both rest easy. Dad taught me well, and so did you.”
Mom reaches out and takes my hand in hers. “Thank you, Izzy.” She wipes her cheek with her free hand. “He tried to teach you everything. He always thought you’d be a wonderful farmer.”
I’m not sure I can tell you what that sentence means to me. But growing up a girl in a man’s profession and hearing your father thinks you’d fit right in, well, it’s important. I’m prouder than I can say. “I’ve got it. You just get him better.”
Mom sniffles a little bit and squeezes my hand but then lets it go. “Go back to bed. You need your rest.”
“So do you, Mom.”
“I’ll doze. I’ll be fine, honey. Now go on.”
I lean down and kiss her cheek. Walking over to my dad’s bed, I do the same to him. I try my best not to look at the place where his arm used to be, but that’s silly. He’s alive and he’ll learn to live with only one arm. Sure, he’s right-handed but no doubt he’ll get used to using his left hand in no time.
Walking slowly back to the pod, my mind is on everything all at once. My dad, the farm, my job at the school. Should I resign? I think I’ll call Nan, our principal, tomorrow to talk things over with her. She grew up in the area, on a farm, she’ll get it. As soon as I step into the large room full of sleep pods, I hesitate. Getting back into bed with Nash is probably a bad idea, so I find the cupboard that houses the blankets and grab one. I’ll sleep in the recliner. It’ll be better for him too. Now he’ll be able to spread out on the small double bed so his legs no longer hang over the end.
My theory is a good one, because when I see Nash, I smile. He’s lying on his stomach at an angle on the bed now, taking up the entire thing. He’s snoring again, but that’s not what has my attention. It’s his ass. He’s got no blanket covering him, so his round bottom clad in denim is all there for me to see. Also, his shirt has risen up in the back, revealing his lovely, tan skin and muscles… beautiful muscles. I’d love to crawl back in there and run my hands up under his shirt, but that’s a very bad idea. With a sigh, I turn to the recliner and sit. Throwing the blanket over my legs, I find the lever and lay back slowly, attempting to be quiet, but the chair is rather clunky. Damn.
Lifting his head, Nash says, “Babe?” He has to roll over to find me, and when he does, he scoots over to the back side of the bed and pats it with his hand. “Come on, Isabelle. Get back in bed. That chair is hard as a rock.”
So is his body. I need to avoid it at all costs. I’m starting to lose myself in it. “I’m fine. You spread out. I’m good.”
“Honey, I won’t sleep knowing you’re uncomfortable.” He pats the bed with his hand again. “I’ll sleep better with you next to me.”
“Nash.”
He sighs and runs one hand through his adorably messy locks. “I’m sorry I did that earlier. It was a bad idea. It won’t happen again.”
Oh. Well. Wow. That stings more than I can say. But I can’t let on that it bothers me. So, I push the chair back to an upright position, slide out, taking my blanket with me, and I lie down next to him. “There,” I snap. “Happy?”
With his arm over me, he pulls me closer to him. “Very.”
I’m glad someone is.
27
Nash
I’m standing outside of Bruce’s room in the ICU watching Isabelle as she talks to her father. Grace has taken a walk to get some coffee and, hopefully, some food. She’s been worried sick about Bruce, but I think the minute he woke up and asked for her, she shifted into the Grace I know. The farm wife. The one who takes care of her family no matter what. She changed from forlorn to determined in seconds. Women are amazing. But, honestly, nobody can hold a candle to a farm girl.
I’m watching Isabelle as she leans over the bed railing to listen to her dad. I can tell from here, he’s in pain. So, when Bruce smiles and I hear a giggle come out of my girl, well, I’m not going to lie, I get a little teary-eyed. Even with all this shit going on, he can still make his daughter laugh. I hope it stays that way. As long as he can stave off infection, I believe Bruce will be okay.
“Nash?” a soft, raspy voice says from his bed.
I look up at Bruce. “Yeah?”
“Can I talk to ya before you kids leave?”
Isabelle and I are heading home soon. She wants to get back to see what’s happening at the farm, and I need to check on Andi. Apparently, there was an incident with Ivy and my mom, but I’ll tell you about that on the way home. Isabelle hasn’t heard about it yet.
“Sure.” I step into the room as Isabelle leaves.
“I’m g
oing to find Mom and tell her we’re taking off. Okay?”
I reach out and touch her hand as we pass. “Yep.”
Stepping up to Bruce’s bed, he looks pale, almost white. “Bruce.” I’d usually reach out and shake his hand, but the remaining arm he’s got has got IVs and there are tubes and wires running all over the place. “You gonna make it?”
Bruce chuckles. “I’ll make it. With one less appendage, but I’ll figure it out.”
“I know you will.” And he will. “You wanted to say somethin?”
“It’s about Isabelle.”
I figured.
“First, thanks for bringing her. I’m glad she didn’t have to drive upset.”
I nod. “No problem.”
“Second… the farm.”
I don’t even wait to hear what he’s gonna say. “I’ll help her out at the farm. She’s—”
He interrupts my words. “No.” He shakes his head slightly with a wince. “She’s more than capable of running the farm. Hell, she’ll be better than I ever was. Just let her do what she needs to do. All I ask is for you to be there for her––and if she asks for help with the farm, then help. But I was thinking maybe you could make sure she eats, that sort of thing.”
It’s my turn to chuckle. He’s asking me to take on another role. “Sure. No problem. I’ll make sure she’s taking care of herself.”
“That’s my boy.” He moves slightly and winces again. “I know she loves teaching, and I wouldn’t want her to have to quit doing that if she can help it, but if she chooses to farm, she can take over mine with my blessing.”
Jesus. His operation is nothing to sneeze at. It’s the biggest in the county, hell, maybe even the state, and the most diverse with some dairy, Simmental beef cattle, and almost 8,000 acres for crops. I’ve got dairy and 5,000 acres myself, and that’s a damn big farm.
“I’ll be there for her. It’s what neighbors do.”
“Bullshit.” Bruce coughs and his face pales further. Squeezing his eyes shut, he sucks in some deep breaths. When he opens them, his eyes are like laser beams. “Stop fucking around, boy. You love her and she loves you. It’s obvious. Don’t screw it up by second-guessing that shit.”
“Bruce….” I nod. “I’ll do whatever I need to do to help Isabelle. The rest… well, we’ll have to see.”
“Bullshit,” he mutters again as he reaches for the button that calls the nurse. “Go on home so the only thing I have to worry about is Grace and getting back on my feet.”
“Yes, sir.” I give Bruce a small smile. “We’ll be up to see you this weekend.” He’ll, hopefully, be in a regular room by then. I know they’re keeping him here for some time before he’s transferred to rehab.
“You should sleep, Isabelle. You’ve got to be exhausted.” After stopping at a drive-through for coffee and a quick breakfast, we’re now in the truck on our way home.
Ignoring my comment, she asks, “Have you talked to Andi?”
“We’ve texted back and forth a few times. She’s having fun at Mom’s place.”
Isabelle smiles. “She’s such a happy child.” Reaching out, she squeezes my knee and releases it way too quickly. “You’ve done such an amazing job with her, Nash.”
I’ve heard that compliment before but never from someone I care about. Hearing her say it makes my chest puff out with pride. “Thank you, Isabelle.” Driving a mile or so, I decide to tell her about Ivy. “I met Ivy for breakfast yesterday.”
Her head whips around to face mine. “Oh?”
“She wanted to talk.”
“I bet.” Isabelle makes a scoffing noise.
“We didn’t even get to the breakfast part before I got up and left.”
Isabelle doesn’t reply. She’s turned her head to face me.
“She, uh, she wants us to get back together.”
“Duh.” Isabelle snorts. “If that came as a surprise to you, well—” She chuckles again. “—I thought you were smarter than that.”
Ignoring her jab, I continue. “She wants to spend time with Andi.”
“You don’t believe her?”
I shake my head. “I don’t trust her. She’s after something.”
Isabelle snorts a laugh again. “Yeah. You.”
Glancing at Isabelle, I give her a smile. “Well, I am quite a catch.”
With an arched brow, Isabelle agrees, “You are.”
“Not quite as good as you are. I’ve heard from everyone that I’m lucky you agreed to marry me.” Shit. I shouldn’t have said that. Isabelle’s face falls, and she turns back to face the road. “Isabelle—”
Holding a hand up, she shakes her head. “I know why you did it. It’s fine.”
“No, it’s not fine. I should have talked to you about it before I blurted it out at the bar.”
She nods. I guess we’re done talking about that. “So, what are you going to do about Ivy?”
“She threatened to take me to court. I told her I’d see her there.”
I expect her to laugh, but she doesn’t. “You’re going to need a good lawyer. Like you said, judges often side with the mother.”
I hate hearing those words out loud. “Ivy went to my mom’s last night trying to see Andi.”
“How’d she know she was at your mom’s place?” Isabelle rolls her eyes. “Of course she knew. I bet it was all over town about my dad and everything that happened.”
“Yeah, word travels fast in Honeywell.”
“It does,” she says absently. “What’d your mom do?”
“Told her to go home.” I snicker. “Mom was pissed.”
She doesn’t laugh. As a matter of fact, she’s acting sort of solemn. “I’d be upset too.”
After that, Isabelle lays her head back on the seat and falls asleep. It’s a good thing. She needs the rest. I miss talking to her the rest of the way home though. At least she’s beside me. I like having her with me. What would life be like with Isabelle by my side?
I know the answer. It’d be perfect.
28
Isabelle
Eleven days have passed since my dad’s accident, and my life has changed so much. He’s out of the hospital after spending eight days total there. Infection caused him to spend several extra days, but he recovered, thankfully. After that, they transported him to a rehabilitation facility in Ankeny, Iowa. It was the best place for his type of injury and one that specializes in training Dad how to use a prosthetic arm. Mom is staying with a distant cousin who happens to live only fifteen minutes from the place so she can be there for him.
It’s strange being at the farm without them. I miss them something awful, but I’ve kept myself busy working half days at school and the rest at the farm. My principal and the superintendent of schools was more than happy to work with me until things settle down at the farm. Thanks to help from our neighbors, the crops were harvested in time. Watching all those people work together to help my dad was seriously emotional. Farmers are a family. I know you hear about them banding together when something like this happens, but seeing it firsthand, well, it’s humbling. While the guys, plus a few girls and women, worked in the fields, many of the wives and kids brought food and drinks to feed the large group.
I worked with Ben to keep track of the fields that had been cleared, deciding how much of the seed we needed to keep for next year, all while organizing the transportation to the elevators that will buy it. The prices have been up and down due to the threat of tariffs, so we have the option of selling now or storing the yield until we’re assured of a good price. And price matters. It’s how we stay in the farming business. Even, or maybe especially, with a farm this size, if prices are too low, we can’t afford to operate.
“Bruce wanted to sell now,” says Ben.
“I know he did.” I tap a pen against my chin. “But I’m going to store two-thirds of the corn and soybeans.” We had a good yield this year, so sending a third off to market will be enough to keep us going.
“But, Bruce—” Ben
starts to say again.
“I know, Ben, but prices dropped again. The market is all over the place. I’d rather hold steady.”
Ben’s getting a little agitated. “But what if it keeps dropping? Maybe we should call your dad. Or ask Nash.”
Now, see, this is what I’m talking about. I’m not so sure Ben would be suggesting that if I were a man. What if it were Isaac making the decision? Don’t get me wrong, Ben is a good guy; he’s just set in his ways. “Ben,” I say in my most serious voice, “I’m in charge now. My dad gave me the authority to make this kind of decision. If you want to call him, go ahead. I don’t mind that you’re not sure about me, but this won’t work if you don’t trust me.”
I watch as Ben pulls his phone out of his pocket. He taps a few buttons then holds the phone over his ear. I listen as he talks to my dad. Sure, I should be angry with Ben, but he’s loyal to my father and he wants the farm to be successful. My hope is my dad will assure him that I know what I’m doing. We’ll see….
When he ends the call, Ben looks at me sheepishly. His cheeks have taken on a pink cast. “I’m sorry, Isabelle.” I’m not sure what he means by that, so I wait. “Your dad said you were right.”
I knew he would say that even if he actually thinks I’m wrong. “Okay. So, we’re storing two-thirds.”
“Yes, ma’am.” Ben nods and gives me a thumbs-up.
After everyone leaves, I make my way back up to the house. It’s Thursday and I’m exhausted. Working two jobs hasn’t been easy, but it’s nothing I can’t handle. Opening up the kitchen door, the first thing I notice is the smell of garlic and onions. “Hello?” I say as I drop my boots by the back door. Entering the kitchen, I smile when I catch a glimpse of Andi reading at my mom’s kitchen table. “Hey, Andi.” The two of them have been here almost every night. By the time I’m done on the farm, Nash has had dinner ready and waiting for me. We’ve sort of reversed roles, except for the fact that Nash has his own farm to run. So, he works there all day, then comes to my folks’ place and feeds me. I’d feel guilty about it if I didn’t enjoy it so much. I mean, he’s got to eat, right? He’d cook at home anyway, why not do it here?