Total pages in book: 8
Estimated words: 6777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 34(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 23(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 6777 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 34(@200wpm)___ 27(@250wpm)___ 23(@300wpm)
He untied me with tender care, wrapping me in his discarded shirt, and holding me close as we watched the last light fade.
“You’re going to be the death of me, girl,” he said, laughing softly, and kissing my forehead.
But there was a softness in his eyes that spoke of more than lust.
In his arms, under the emerging stars, it felt like the beginning of something that would never break.
5
After months of submitting to all the forbidden, taboo things we shouldn’t be doing, the weight of our hidden relationship bore down on us both.
The farm, once a haven of seclusion, now felt like a pressure cooker, where every shared glance risked exposure. We were careful, but the constant vigilance was exhausting, and it chipped away a little each day until anxiety waged war in me.
It got to the point when one autumn morning, as frost dusted the fields, and we started wearing thicker clothes to keep the chill away, Daddy looked at me from across the kitchen table with eyes serious enough that I knew whatever he was going to say needed my full attention.
“We need to talk, Polly. Really talk.”
My heart plummeted, an icy fear gripping me. Had the guilt finally caught up to him? Was this taboo relationship too overwhelming, and the risk of societal scorn too great? I set my mug down with trembling hands, the ceramic clinking against the wood. “About us?”
He nodded, reaching across to take my hand, his thumb stroking my palm in that familiar, soothing way. “This…” Daddy waved his hand between us. “What we have… it’s not just physical to me. It never was. I love you, Polly. Not just like a daughter…” He scrubbed his free hand over his face. “God knows that the line I shouldn’t have crossed was burned the fuck away.”
My heart was thundering so hard, I swore he could hear it.
“I’m in love with you. As the strongest woman I know by my side, and as my partner. But we can’t keep sneaking around like this forever. It’s eating at me, worrying about what happens if someone finds out.”
Relief flooded through me, warm and heady, mixed with the same fears that plagued him. “I love you too, Daddy. More than I ever thought possible. But you’re right. No one will accept our relationship. People would judge us harshly, call it wrong, twisted. What about the farm? The life we’ve built here?”
He sighed, running a hand through his short salt-and-pepper hair, the lines around his eyes deepening. “I’ve thought about that a lot. The farm’s ours now, free and clear since your mom passed. We could sell off a portion. We’ll keep enough to live on but downsize. Move somewhere new, a place where no one knows our history. Start fresh as just Malachi and Polly, no labels attached.”
We spent the entire day discussing it, not in the heat of desire but with practical minds honed by years of farm management and what our future looked like. We pored over maps spread across the table, circling potential locations. We discussed living in the rolling hills of Kentucky or the vast plains of Montana.
We weighed the logistics of hiring an appraiser for the property, listing it discreetly to avoid local gossip, and packing up the heirlooms that held memories of my mother without letting guilt overshadow our future.
We also discussed not selling it, but hiring more help to keep it running, and periodically coming back to make sure things are running smoothly.
It was a lot to take in.
By evening, as the sun set in a blaze of crimson, we’d forged a plan. We’d keep the property and not sell it. But we’d ease into a transition, hiring more farmhands, and quietly telling those closest to us that my father was moving to settle down and enjoy retirement. They didn’t need to know I was going with him. It was easier this way.
In the meantime, we’d savor our time here, but with renewed caution. It wasn’t a simple conversation. Guilt lingered like a shadow over my mother’s memory, and Daddy admitted that at night doubt crept in.
“She’d want us happy,” he whispered, pulling me into his lap. “Albeit not with each other, but things happen for a reason. And this… you… make me happier than I’ve been in years.”
That night, we slept in each other’s arms, fully clothed, just holding on as we recalled all the memories we had here.
The future loomed uncertain, filled with challenges, but for the first time, it felt hopeful, and grounded in a love that had defied the odds.
EPILOGUE
Two years had passed since we left Stone Creek behind, trading its familiar fields for a smaller, more manageable homestead nestled in the foothills of Montana.
Everything had gone smoothly, and we went back to the farm twice a year to ensure things were continuing to run smoothly. Our Montana home was a cozy farmhouse with a wraparound porch, two acres of thick woodlands, and majestic mountains standing guard over our secrets.