Page 95 of Rune’s Solace
“That’s what the tag says.”
She came closer. “You’re really doing it.”
“Told you I would.”
“I thought you meant someday.”
“Someday’s got a bad track record with me.”
That got her.
She dropped down beside me in the dirt, my shirt riding up around her thighs while she picked up one of the little pots and looked at it like I’d handed her something rare.
“It looks dead.”
“It’s not dead.”
“It looks extremely dead.”
“It’s dormant.”
“It has three leaves.”
“Four.”
She counted. “Three and a half.”
“Still alive.”
She looked at me over the top of it, and I saw the tears already starting.
“Don’t.”
“I’m not doing anything.”
“You’re gonna cry.”
“I’m not.”
“You are.”
“Shut up.”
I reached over and wiped one tear off her cheek with my thumb.
“Won’t flower for a couple years,” I told her. “Maybe longer if the heat beats the hell out of ’em. Probably lose a few learning what works.”
Her hand tightened around the pot. “But they’ll grow?”
“If I do my job.”
She looked out over the empty stretch along the fence. “And the field?”
“That’s gonna take us a while.”
“Us?”
Amy went still. Sometimes I forgot how much one little word could cost her.
