34. Dove
DOVE
I t wasn’t that I’d forgotten how labor-intensive harvest time could be, but this was honestly the first time I’d been so heavily involved.
Technically this wasn’t the first cut of the season.
Late spring was when the first cut came, but Mom had been heavy into doctors' appointments, and it hadn’t left Gareth much time to do anything himself, much less time to teach me how to do it myself, so Gareth had asked his farmer pals to help him out.
At the time, I’d been relieved for their help, but looking back now, I wondered how much it had cost us.
Spare time was rarely something a farmer found themselves left with, so while those men might have been Gareth’s buddies, they had most certainly been paid for their time and energy.
Especially considering Gareth was allergic to any sort of charity or handouts.
I wiped the back of my arm across my damp forehead, eyes burning at the beads of sweat that had dripped down into them.
It was a hot day, but we were lucky for it, considering the unpredictable weather this season.
Weather that had held out since the rain had passed, which meant the crop had dried out enough for us to finally begin cutting.
The forecast was predicted to hold strong all week, sunny across the board, allowing us to get work done without rushing.
With the acreage we had it would make for long days, but nothing we couldn’t handle between the two of us.
Josh and I were both confident we could get it all cut and baled before any bad weather had a chance to swoop in and ruin our progress.
He’d left early this morning to begin after we’d done a thorough walkthrough of the tractor yesterday, which had left us tired and grease-stained, eager to fall into bed because we’d be rising earlier than normal to start the day the following morning.
Since I’d been up before the damn sun even had a chance to grace its presence in the sky, I’d gotten a head start on the chores for the day, which meant I had time to check over the rest of the equipment we’d be using after the cutting was done.
The tedder in front of me was well-greased, every tine carefully inspected to ensure there would be no issues once it came time to attach and use it.
Josh had shown me what to look for before he left, and I was proud of myself for the work I’d put in, my own contribution while he was out there in the field.
I was meant to meet him soon to remind him to take a break and eat some lunch.
I cleaned up in the sink downstairs in the mudroom before grabbing the lunch I’d packed for us, slipping the fabric bag over my shoulder as I grabbed Josh’s keys off the hook near the door.
My hand automatically bypassed my mom's car keys and the fancy fob hanging out of place beside it, reaching for the old Chevy key instead. Something still twisted at my insides when I saw his shiny Suburban, and there was no way I was driving it out onto the fields. Know my luck I’d probably end up getting the damn thing stuck and waste precious daylight trying to get it out.
No, better to go with old faithful.
I strode across the driveway and chucked our lunch in through the open driver's side window, the bag landing with a soft thud on the passenger side. A disgruntled meow startled me and as I opened the door, Omen’s drowsy, annoyed gaze blinked at me from where he was stretched out across the truck’s seat.
“Really?” I chuckled. I reached over to scoop him up, cradling his lax, sleepy body to my chest as I walked over to the opening of the garage. “You’ll fall asleep anywhere, won’t you?”
I left him on a pile of clean rags, his eyes already closing as I walked away.
The drive to the field Josh was working on was barely a five-minute ride, and predictably, my excitement grew with each mile I got closer to him.
The fact I’d seen him just this morning meant nothing, not when I’d grown used to seeing him every day, his presence a constant shadow in my peripheral.
The fact there were years where he’d been nothing but a bittersweet memory was agonizing to think about now that I had him back, living every moment of the day with him and sleeping soundly beside him in the cover of night, pressed up against my back like a protective sentinel.
I could see the tractor in the distance, the road a straight shot.
He’d been at it since early morning, and he’d gotten a lot done so far, the large expanse of field laying cut, but it was just the first of many acres.
He was working efficiently, and it wasn’t like he couldn’t do this himself, but I wanted him to show me how, so I could give him a break.
I came prepared to persuade him if he gave me kick back on it, and I wasn't just talking about the lunch I'd packed.
He’d explained the mechanics of it all while looking over the tractor, but I knew he’d been doing it more to appease me than anything.
Every time I mentioned relieving him, he’d grunt noncommittally.
I’d let it go, because I didn’t want to fight right before he left to go spend long hours harvesting, but if he thought I was going to sit back and stay at home while he handled it all himself, he had another thing coming.
I slowed the truck down and pulled off onto a small shoulder which led into a self-made trail, one that had been forged from years of trucks and tractors driving down it.
The truck rattled as it crossed each bump and divot in the rough dirt path, my body jostling until I parked.
I turned the key, killing the engine, but left it dangling in the ignition as I grabbed our lunch and hopped out of the cab.
There wasn’t much through traffic on this stretch of road, and I knew nobody would touch his truck.
Thankfully, we didn’t have to worry much about that type of stuff in Haven, and it was another reason I loved living here so much, even if I sometimes longed for a change of pace.
I sent Josh a text to warn him I was here, but waited until the tractor was faced my way, waving so he could see me.
It took a minute or two for the big machine to slow to a stop, but when it did, I saw his hand extend out, waving me over, indicating it was safe for me to approach.
I’d overheard too many conversations between Gareth and other local farmers about how easy it could be for life-alternating accidents to happen from carelessness.
My boots swished through the freshly cut hay as I crossed the field, the occasionally stem brushing the bare skin of my calf.
The tractor grew larger the closer I got, the idling engine loud but humming smoothly.
We’d made sure to go through it top to bottom, fixing any of the parts it needed and oiling everything until it sounded like it had when Gareth first bought it.
It might have been tedious work, but being beside Josh while we fixed the tractors and prepared them for harvesting were some of my favorite moments.
His gentle voice as he explained what he was doing, his guiding hands as he allowed me to do it on my own, the heat of his proximity as he hovered, watching over my shoulder, his encouragement a warm exhale along the shell of my ear.
By the time I made it to the steps of the tractor, I was overly warm and flushed, and not just from the sun beating down on me.
The door of the cab opened the moment my boot touched the first step, Josh reaching out to help me up, making sure I kept my balance as I climbed.
His hand was callous-rough and slightly sweaty where it had been wrapped around the steering wheel, but on my skin it felt like cool water rushing over heated stone, leaving a steamy haze behind.
I all but fell into his lap, nowhere else for me to go, as he heaved me inside the rest of the way and shut the door, blocking out most of the engine noise.
Sitting sideways, my knees were cramped, brushing up against the closed door, but there was nowhere else I’d rather be.
“Hi,” I breathed, slightly out of breath from my walk and just from being in Josh’s space. The air inside the cab smelled like freshly cut hay and the bodywash he used, a potent combination that had me swaying in to steal a kiss before he could say anything back.
He smiled into the kiss, his hands tightening where they framed my waist just above my jean shorts. “Hi,” he parroted, his lips brushing mine.
I twisted to face him better, reclining until my back pressed against the steering wheel.
“How’s it going? Looks like you got a lot done.”
He nodded. “Not too bad. Hit a snag a few miles back where a divot formed that I hadn’t seen, and I nearly got the tractor stuck. Managed to avoid it just in time.”
“Thank goodness for that.” I couldn’t even imagine what we’d do if he’d gotten stuck. Have to call for help, obviously, and who knew how long that might take. “I brought lunch!” I shrugged the bag off my shoulder and held it up in offering.
“Just in time.” Josh’s hand slid up under the back of my top to palm the soft skin of my lower back, making me shiver. “I’m starved.”
I ignored his touch, even though every swipe of his hand was a shot of desire that went straight between my legs.
Plopping the bag into my lap, I opened the top, rambling, “Well, I got here right on time then. I made sure to bring a few different things, since I wasn’t sure what you’d want or how hungry you’d be. ”
Josh’s other hand skimmed along my thigh until it came in contract with the bag. His hand fisted the top, closing it shut. “I’m not hungry for any of that, Dove.”
“N-no?” I stuttered, mind going blank at the husky rasp of his voice. “What did you want then?”
“Oh,” he rumbled suggestively, moving the bag off my lap and to the floor beside his seat. “I have an idea.” His hands guided me easily until I was astride his lap, facing away from him with my back resting against his broad chest.