The impromptu visit to Mony’s farm had been stressful. Buddy had matters he needed to talk over with his daughter and
the Fergusons were his go between. Bob Strong’s funeral had been only months prior, and it was an awkward situation all around.
After dinner, Massey took Mony aside for a private discussion, the conversation clearly upsetting, evident by her
abruptness fleeing the house. Nate found her in the machine shed sitting on
a Kawasaki Mule, her face unreadable. Mounting the seat behind her, he told her, ‘Drive.’
She stopped in a clearing near the creek, her posture resigned. Nate wrapped his arm around her
shoulders, offering comfort. Leaning into him, she turned her face to his cheek, breathing a sigh.
He would have given anything to know what she was thinking at that moment.
Holding the only woman he’d truly ever loved, for him he could only remember feeling pure bliss.