“Drop it. I’ll get it. You’re too busy to be bothered with a wedding.” She pointed to the ground, her too big to be working on the farm earrings swayed.
“Don’t be ridiculous,” he said, his tone softer than before, as if the news had doused his anger to embers. “All I’m saying is that this entire place now rests on my shoulders and I have a lot of work to do. No one else is going to help run this place. I’m not being rude. I’m just too busy to help with some event.”
She crossed her arms over her chest and tapped her foot. “Why do you think that Ms. Horton demanded to have the wedding at your farm?”
The dull warmth flickered into a skin-warming heat. “How should I know?”
“It doesn’t take a genius to figure out that she was probably the one who sent you that letter, and she’s probably the one who sacrificed whatever dream wedding she’s been waiting to have for like forty years to help utilize town members and small businesses to get this place back to some sort of functioning farm.” Mary-Beth poked her finger to his tight abs from holding the heavy bag and narrowed her gaze at him. “So, no, Tanner, I don’t need you now or ever, so drop that fertilizer.”
So, he did. He tossed it to the ground at her feet, about-faced, and returned to work. What gave her the right to speak to him that way? How would he know why Mayor Horton did anything she did? He’d never had the same relationship with the woman as the girls had. All he knew about her was what he saw at the occasional social gathering and whatever Mary-Beth had told him.
He shoveled and wheeled out two loads of waste while listening to the sliding noise, but he couldn’t see the petite, five-foot-four Mary-Beth over the wood stall frame. The only thing visible was her fancy hair clip bobbing up and down. Then the noise stopped, and he decided to make sure she hadn’t passed out or fallen or something, but she hadn’t. She was holding on to the corner of the bag, using all her body weight to drag it a few inches at a time.
“You’re just as stubborn now as you were when we were kids. Move.” Not able to watch the woman struggle any longer—and hoping for a little peace in his barn—he lifted her into the air and set her down behind him and then settled the bag over his shoulder.
“I told you I got it.”
“You can get it outside.” He marched out the door, grumbling under his breath. “Would’ve been easier to let me do it in the first place, but noooo. Mary-Beth has to always be right.”
“I don’t always need to be right. I just usually am.”
He dropped the bag next to Felicia and Carissa, squatting next to the bench. “Really? Like you were right when you decided we should skip out of math class, sure we’d never get caught, so we could go fishing, and we ended up with poison ivy? Or when you decided that you wanted to be strawberry blonde and you insisted on doing it yourself, and you ended up pumpkin orange? Or maybe when you were right about—”
“Enough. You’ve made your point. I might be stubborn, but at least I don’t run out on people and I don’t care more about myself than the people who fed and clothed me, who did without and died early so their precious son could live the football dream.”
A coldness flooded him. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. And this conversation’s over. I’m done being judged by you and this town. I’m tired of being blamed for all your poor decisions. Most of all, I’m tired of you.”
Chapter Five
The day was long and the night even longer, especially with the girls discussing everything except the dramatic garden episode with Tanner. How was Mary-Beth ever going to get through this wedding with him living on the farm?
She lifted the metal cup to the milk frothier, despite the knot between her shoulder blades. At least she had her coffee shop to keep her busy all day with a solid excuse not to help with anything at the farm until later in the evening.
“Good morning to the best sister in the world.” Andy settled onto a bar stool with his bright blue eyes, sandy-blond hair, and an I’m-about-to-manipulate-you grin.
She was not in the mood for games. “No.”
“Wow, way to parent. You don’t even know what I’m going to ask.” Andy swiveled in the stool, plastering on his best three-legged, preemie puppy look he could manage.
“That charming smile of yours works well with most girls, but I’m your sister and I see right through it. Whatever it is, the answer’s no.”
He held his football to his chest the way Tanner always did in high school. Did every jock have to keep his identity with him 24-7? Andy slept with his ball on his nightstand as if it would disappear from his life if he separated from it. “You need to study more and spend less time on football.”
“I have straight A’s. How much more should I study?” Andy chuckled. “But you make a good point. You know how you’re always saying I shouldn’t rely on football for my future and that I should work on my grades more?”
She set the metal cup down and wiped the milk off the frother, trying to speed ahead to his next turn to prepare herself. “Yeah…”
“Well, I got an A on my test in calculus yesterday. The highest grade in the class. Doesn’t that deserve a reward?”
“You’re not going to the beach for spring break.”
“Geesh, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?” Andy sat back away from her. “It wasn’t about spring break.” He hopped off the stool. “I’ll talk to you after school.”
She sighed and tossed her rag down. “No, go ahead. I’m listening.”
“Fine, but I need you to have an open mind. This is vital to my future, and it won’t cost Mom and Dad any money, It would help with a college scholarship, and it’s only one little, simple conversation you’ll have with someone. It’s not a big deal at all.”
Her faux-parenting alarm she’d been developing rang loud and clear with warning. “Then why are you making it feel like a mega deal?”
He threw the ball up in a spiral and caught it in his arms. “It’s not. You can just be…funny about things sometimes. I don’t want you to go all girl-monthly-crazy on me or anything.”
“First off, never say that again. If you say that to a girl who isn’t your sister, I hope she knocks you down in front of the entire team.”
He held up his ball at her in mock surrender.
“Spit it out or move on.” Mary-Beth realized her espresso shot had burned from sitting there too long, so she threw it out and packed some more grounds to make another one.
“I just need you to ask Tanner McCadden to coach football this year since our coach left without notice and we don’t have anyone to step in.”
The steam from her espresso machine didn’t reach the degrees that scorched her insides. “No. The school will replace your coach.”
Andy cradled the ball like an infant against his chest. “They’re trying, but as of right now, they are talking about Old Man Praetor coaching. Could you imagine? I’m not even sure his scooter can reach the fifty-yard line. Why would we settle for him when we have a football star coach right here in town? And I know he’ll do it for you.”