Free Immortal Mine by Cindy C Bennett Page B

discomfort.
    “Dad,” I whine mockingly, “if you keep
boring my friends with your stories, they are going to quit coming
around. I’ve told you this.”
    He laughs at me, knowing I’m only teasing,
dropping a kiss on top of my head.
    “All right, I’ve got some photographs to
develop. You kids have fun.” I roll my eyes affectionately as he
walks away. My dad is a complete dork. Who else would still use
film rather than digital? He claims the photos lose something when
pixilated.
    “Nice guy,” Sam says as my father leaves the
stable.
    “Yeah, he is,” I agree. “I hope he wasn’t
boring you, though.”
    “No, his stories are actually quite
fascinating.”
    “Uhm,” I grunt noncommittally. My father’s
stories stopped being fascinating to me long ago, but I guess they
would be new to Sam.
    “So, is that what I am, now?” he asks,
looking at me slantwise, “Your friend?”
    I glance away, thinking of my thoughtlessly
spoken words. I shrug, and decide to change the subject.
    “You seem better this morning. You were a
little freaked out yesterday.”
    “Oh, yeah, that.” He looks uncomfortable.
“That was….” He trails off then looks at me. “I can’t really
explain that.”
    He waits for my response, but I don’t know
what to say. It was definitely weird, but I guess everyone is
entitled to their strange quirks. Instead of answering, I walk over
to Sheila’s stall. She comes to greet me, knowing I’ll have an
apple for her.
    “Let’s go for a ride,” Sam says behind me,
“on the horses.”
    I look at Sheila longingly for a moment,
before turning back to Sam.
    “I wish I could, but there’s work to be
done. If I don’t do it, who will?”
    He glances toward the open door that my
father just exited from, but doesn’t say anything. Good thing; I
don’t deal well with criticism of my parents.
    “You can’t take a break for a couple hours,
have some fun?” he asks, instead.
    “It’s not like I never have fun,” I
defend. “It’s just that there’re things that need to be done.”
    “I’ll help you, as soon as we get back.”
    “You don’t understand, Sam. After I clean
Sheila’s stall—”
    “Done,” he interrupts.
    “What?”
    “That’s what your dad was doing when I got
here.”
    I glance toward Sheila’s stall, surprised I
missed that when I looked in before.
    “Huh,” I say. Brilliant, right? “Well, I’ve
gotta milk Bessie and—”
    “Wait, your cows name is Bessie ?” Sam
scoffs.
    I narrow my eyes at him. “So?”
    He bites back a laugh, “So nothing.”
    I shoot him my best dirty look, and
continue. “I’ve gotta clean out the chicken coop, change the litter
boxes, check my ducks and make sure they’re doing okay, tend the
garden, and start the apple picking—”
    “Is that a normal Saturday for you?” Sam’s
stunned.
    I shrug. “A little hard work never hurt
anyone.”
    “Niahm, you’re seventeen . A child.
You should hardly be expected to run an entire ranch by
yourself.”
    Of course, my anger rises.
    “I’m not a child!” I explode, sounding very
much like a petulant child, completing the illusion with my hands
on hips. “And I’ve been running my farm since I was thirteen
years old.”
    “Why don’t you hire some help?” Sam
questions, remaining calm in the face of my temper. I refuse to
admit that my parents have tried to hire help multiple times, but
it’s become a matter of pride to run the place myself. I keep my
lips clamped, not wanting to admit my stubbornness.
    “Look, just come for an hour. We can run the
fence lines, check them over.” I’m about to argue; we don’t really
have any animals to be kept penned in, but then he makes an offer.
“When we get back, I’ll help you with whatever you need.”
    I glance at him. “ Any thing?”
    “Anything,” he confirms, “for the rest of
the day.”
    I narrow my eyes at him, “Why would you do
that?”
    “Because I’d really like to go for a ride,
and I don’t want