Rustic Hearts

Braxton

 

I find Jefferson loading the trailer with chain saws and straps. Everyone gave him a wide berth after he stormed off during lunch, but the boys just showed up for our foray into the woods to cut firewood for the winter.

“You all right?” I ask as I pick up one of the saws and lay it in the truck bed.

“Fine,” he grunts as he lifts another one on.

“Talk to me, old man,” I push.

He removes his hat and wipes his brow. “I just thought she was living a good life. That her momma married a rich man, who gave them both everything they ever wanted. Everything I couldn’t give them. And to hear that my baby girl has been up there, spending Christmas all alone all these years, while I’m here, surrounded by a huge, loving family … fuck. No wonder she hates me.”

“I don’t think she hates you, Jefferson.”

He places his hat back on his head. “Well, she should. I hate myself enough for both of us.”

He slams the tailgate shut and walks off.

I don’t know the story of what went down with Jefferson and his first wife. I don’t even think Aunt Madeline knows the whole story; however, I think Sophie deserves to know, but I don’t get a chance to voice my opinion before the rest of the boys show up.

We return hours later with a trailer full of logs. It takes a lot of wood to run the fireplaces in the farmhouse and my loft as well as the wood we go through while building bonfires. Every fall, we stockpile as much as we can, so we don’t have to go back out during the cold, wet winter months.

We get the logs unloaded, and Jefferson and Emmett head up to start cooking the ribs for supper while Walker, Silas, and I start splitting logs and chopping up the wood to stack in the woodshed.

“Jefferson was grumpier than usual today,” Silas points out as he swings his ax at the stump in front of him.

“Damn near took Emmett’s arm off with a chain saw too,” I agree.

“Did he find Sophie in your bed this morning?” Walker asks.

I slide my eyes to him. “I don’t know what you’re talking about.”

“Don’t play that shit with us. I saw the way you were staring a damn hole through Trey last night. I’m surprised the boy didn’t spontaneously burst into flames.”

“Yeah, and then you disappeared into the barn after Sophie. We tried our damnedest to keep him from going looking for her. Even Dallas tried. When he said he was going to check on her and make sure she was okay, Dallas jumped up and offered to look herself, but he trailed after her,” Silas adds.

I keep loading logs on the stump and hurling my ax.

“And, when Chloe and I went to leave, there was a light on in your apartment. We could see someone moving around up there. Seeing as Lori had left right before us—”

“Enough,” I cut Silas off.

“What are you doing, Brax?” Walker asks, a look of concern on his face.

“I have no idea,” I admit.

He nods. “Not that I blame you. She’s smoking hot and fun as hell, but I’m smart enough not to touch Jefferson’s daughter.”

“Like you had a chance.” Silas smacks him in the ribs.

“Nobody does against this handsome devil.” Walker grabs my chin and starts making kissy noises at me.

I push him off, and he starts laughing.

“I have an ax in my hand, dumbass,” I warn him.

“Seriously, does Jefferson know you have sleepovers with his girl?” Silas asks.

“I don’t know. If he does, he hasn’t said a word to me. I think Emmett knows though.”

“If Emmett knows, Jefferson knows, and so do Ria and Doreen,” Walker notes.

“We’re adults,” is all the explanation I offer.

“Are you a couple now?” Silas asks.

“No,” I answer honestly.

“Fuck buddies?” Walker interjects.

“No.”

“What then?” he asks the million-dollar question.

“She goes back to New York in a few days. Until then, we are what we are.”

“You just going to let her go back without a fight?” Walker asks incredulously.

“Of course I am. She lives there. Her business is there.”

“But you wish she’d stay,” Silas guesses.

“Wouldn’t matter if I did.”

“Have you considered telling her?” Walker asks.

“No.”

“Maybe that’s something she’d like to hear,” he suggests.

“Why? To make it harder for her to leave? I’m sure Doreen and Ria are going to make her feel bad enough.”

Walker opens a bottle of water and shrugs. “There’s always Morgan.”

“Or Lori,” Silas adds.

“Nah, I took care of Lori for him last night,” Walk says with a wink before downing his water.

Dallas’s truck pulls up around three p.m., and Sophie emerges with a sleepy Beau in her arms. She has her hair pulled through a green-and-pink camouflage ball cap and her face full of green and pink paint that looks like a butterfly mask. She’s so damn beautiful. They disappear into the house.

“Hey, Brax. Can you guys come unload these for us?” Dallas bellows from the driveway.

Walker and I make our way to the truck and look inside the bed.

“Damn, did you guys leave any pumpkins for the other patrons?” he asks as we take in the massive haul.

“We went a little overboard. It turns out, Sophie is as good at telling Beau no as I am.”

“Looks like you guys had fun,” I say as I start grabbing pumpkins and setting them on the porch.

“Sophie sure did. Do you know she hasn’t been to a pumpkin patch since she left Colorado? She said that some churches in the city truck in a bunch of pumpkins from upstate, sell them on their lawn, and call it a pumpkin patch. Isn’t that pathetic? It hurt Beau’s little heart to hear it, and he made it his mission to do every single thing Smithfield Farms had to offer, so Miss Sophie could do it. Wore himself out.” She shuts the truck. “Those are all of Sophie’s.”

Walker looks at the massive collection of pumpkins in every size and shape that litter the porch. “What’s she pla

Dallas shrugs. “Beats me. I reckon she just wants to enjoy them as much as she can the next few days. Thanks for the help.”