Bittersweet Creek by Kilpatrick Sally

Author:Kilpatrick, Sally [Kilpatrick, Sally]
Language: eng
Format: mobi, epub
Publisher: Kensington
Published: 2015-09-14T07:00:00+00:00

Romy

“Where’ve you been?”

Daddy was trying to stare me down, but I wasn’t going to let him. “I went to see Julian, if you must know.”

He frowned. “Don’t reckon that’s a good idea.”

I dug in for a fight. “And just why’s that?”

“Well, Richard’s called about four times, for one.”

And I’d left my cell phone upstairs to charge all day. Muttering some distinctly unladylike words, I didn’t stay to find out any more reasons why Daddy thought I shouldn’t go see Julian. Instead I ran upstairs for my cell—the Satterfields didn’t believe in unlimited long distance on the landline, either.

“Supper’ll be ready in thirty minutes,” Daddy hollered after me. He was puffing from the effort of trying to cook from the wheelchair, but I knew better than to try to stop him. He’d tell me he had to feel good for something.

I didn’t answer. Now it was time to tell Richard we might have to postpone the wedding. He, however, didn’t need to know I’d gone to Julian for help. His response would be, “Why don’t you just buy some hay?” He wasn’t following the news about the drought. He didn’t understand that people like my father and Julian were the ones who made the hay. He sure as hell wouldn’t understand my sudden desire to learn to do some of these things for myself. I didn’t understand it, either, but there were some things I had to prove to myself.

Like how you proved to yourself you could ask Julian for help without falling all over him? How did that go?

I hugged myself at the memory. I wasn’t too proud of my actions, but letting Julian hold me had felt so good. Once upon a time I’d believed there was nothing I couldn’t stand as long as I had him to hold me and tell me it was all going to be okay. It was a momentary lapse because I was still upset about the farm, and it wouldn’t happen again.

I checked the bars on my phone, but it wasn’t happening. Instead I had to tromp downstairs and go sit on the edge of the front porch to make the call.

“There you are!” Relief whooshed from Richard when he answered the phone. “I’ve been missing you so much. I don’t like the way we left things.”

I felt a twinge of something behind my breastbone. I had missed Richard, at least our easy companionship. I missed the steadiness of life with him, of what should have been a lazy summer of sleeping in and catching up on the housework I’d neglected during the school year. “I’ve missed you, too.”

“So, we’re still engaged?” He sounded so small, so vulnerable on the other end of the line.

“Of course, we’re still engaged! But . . .”

He sighed deeply. “I don’t like the buts. Please tell me you don’t have a child somewhere.”

“Richard! Of course not! No, Daddy’s thinking about selling the family farm, and—”

“That’s great! He can come to Nashville and live closer to us!”

My mouth went dry.

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