Luke glance down the row of cherry trees and grumbled, Nate was moving at turtle speed, minus five. Nate was Luke’s older brother that had graduated two years ago and had managed to turn doing nothing into a full-time job. It pissed Luke off beyond words.
“Come on, Nate move faster. We have to get these cherries to the farmers market in Grangeville today, Mr. Beckham is counting on us to be there.”
“Yeah . . . yeah,” Nate said.
Luke clenched his fist and cherries squeezed out between his fingers. He looked down having forgotten about the fruit. He removed his cutting glare from his brother and went back to work. Doing his best to ignore Nate’s very existence.
The sun beat down on him for hours, yet he never slowed his pace. He cast his glance to the six, five gallon bucks and felt a sense of pride cascade down his spine. He did that. Looking back at the house upon the top of a slow rolling hill, he wondered how many bucket’s Nate had brought in.
Snatching a hand full of cherries, Luke rest his tired body at the base of the nearest cherry tree ready to enjoy the shade. Plucking a stem to one of his cherries, he tossed it into his mouth. The sweet heavenly-goodness coated his tongue and a thought seized his mind. Would Sarah Jane’s lips be as sweet as this? Spitting the seed into his hand, he peered down at the next cherry about to be devour. Nope, he was certain Sarah Jane’s lips would be much sweeter than these.
What a way to end a Friday. He would have never guest in a million years she would actually confide in him . . . him the dirty bag she hated so much. It was almost awe inspiring. He closed his eyes and Sarah Jane was there in his mind’s eye looking scared and beautiful all at once. He still didn’t know what had possessed him to stroke her hair like that. The look of disgusted was worth feeling the silky strands however. It was as if he entered a third dimension or something. A grin pulled at the corners of his lips. Sarah Jane needed his help, it was something to think on.
“Day dreaming I see,” came his father voice.
Luke’s eyes popped open and he sprang to his feet.
“Sorry, Sr. I was just resting. I’ve finished picking for the day.” He pointed to his buckets and his father’s gray thick brows raised high on his forehead, and then he reached out and squeezed Luke’s shoulder.
“Always such a good boy. Not sure what I did to get a son like you.”
Luke didn’t know what to say as he watched his father’s eye become glassy.
“Never mind that,” he tugged Luke back down to where he’d been sitting and rest beside him, “what was the cause of that silly smile. I’m putting my money on a girl.”
Luke looked away as his cheeks heated.
His father slapped his knee. “I knew it. Who is she?”
As much as Luke wanted to tell his father he knew he couldn’t. His father didn’t care for Sarah Jane’s family.