Farm Girl Meets Bad Boy (#1)

Chapter Twenty-Eight

“So Emery,” my dad says, as he stabs his fork into his steak. We’re having an early dinner so that we can wash the horses in daylight. We’ve had a horrible heat wave for the past week. “Your probation is up in a few weeks. Any plans?”

I bite my tongue as I push my food around my plate. Things have been weird between us ever since that night, and neither of us have said much to each other. Mary kicks my leg underneath the table and I glare at her. She nods her head towards Emery and I look towards him.

“Emery?” My dad repeats, as Emery’s head snaps up towards him. He had been lost in thoughts. “Any plans after probation?”

Emery shrugs, and uses his fork to draw pictures in his mashed potatoes exactly like I am. “I don’t really have many places to go now that I know my father’s in town.” We still haven’t had any sign of him, and I assume that my dad scared him off with the shotgun.

“I don’t think he’s going to be bugging you if you stay here,” my dad says in between bites. “You know, you’re one-hundred percent welcome to stay here even when you don’t have to.” I watch Emery, and he doesn’t even look up. To me, that is my answer. He still wants to get out of here as fast as he can. “Oh, River,” my dad turns towards me. “Your mother and I are going to take some cows up to our friends in Dalston tomorrow. He wants to buy them, and he can’t come pick them up.”

I scrunch my eyebrows together. “Dalston? Isn’t that far?”

My mother nods as she grabs the bowl of mashed potatoes. “We would be gone for the night, so maybe Mary could stay overnight to help you and Emery with the chores?”

Mary shrugs, and tries to hide her smile of excitement. But her expression fades as Emery’s chair makes a scraping noise as he pushes away from the table. Leaving his barely touched food, he strides towards the back door and walks out it, letting it swing close behind him.

“I’ll go talk to him,” nods my dad, excusing himself from the table. The rest of us eat in awkward, unknowing silence.

Mary and I walk outside, and I stop to admire my birthday present from last week. It’s a red and grey beat up old pickup truck. However I still loved it the same. As long as it could take me from point A to B, I was fine with it.

A few minutes later, the horses stand in the middle of the space between the house and the barn. Mary carries a heavy bucket full of soapy water as I retrieve the hose from the side of the house. As I walk beside the deck towards the horses, I hear my father and Emery talking as they sit on the steps. I’m trying my hardest to hear what they’re saying, but I get distracted.

“No,” whines Mary, dragging it out as all the sponges she’s carrying from the barn fall out of her arms. She picks them up as I press the down handle of the hose. “River, stop!” she laughs as the water sprays in front of her feet, not even touching her.

Rolling my eyes, I turn the hose onto Silver and start to get her wet. She neighs happily at the cool water and I can’t help but enjoy the cold spray that splashes back at me. This heat wave needed to end, and soon.

“So I’m thinking,” Mary says as she tosses me a sponge. I drop the hose and dip the yellow sponge in the soapy bucket.

“That’s never good,” I smirk, as Mary’s eyes narrow at me.

“Oh shut up. I meant about tomorrow night. Movie night?” I think about the movies we haven’t seen in a while as I sponge down Silver. Ever since Emery showed up, we haven’t really had a movie night lately.

“Need any help?” I have no time to answer Mary as I look to my left. Emery stands there, with his hands in his dark jean pockets. He’s wearing a light blue band shirt that makes his black hair stand out more than it usually does. His voice is calm and nice, unlike the annoyed, bored one I had been hearing all week.