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Leon is right on his heels. “I’ll ride with you.”
His brother puts a hand on his shoulder. “I need you here in case Digger shows up before I get back.”
“Digger? Why is that asshole coming here?”
“He knows about running an orchard.”
“Into the ground.” Leon crosses his arms, and I see a resemblance between the brothers.
“Digger was just a kid when all that happened.”
“Still, he inherited the genes. I thought they did cotton now.”
“He’ll do what I tell him to do.” Sawyer turns to the truck. “You’ll behave yourself.”
Leon walks over and sits on the back of the flatbed, watching his brother get in the Chevy and pull out of the loading area where we’ve been working.
My hunger is somewhat eased, and I’m on my second bottle of water. “Who’s Digger?”
“Some dick who’s got his sights set on this place. Sawyer doesn’t even see it. Or maybe he does and doesn’t care. He is leaving, after all.”
He hops off the trailer and starts walking toward the rows of trees stretching over the hill. I glance in the direction my friend just left and decide to take off after his little brother.
We walk up the hill for a bit in silence. I watch as Leon stops occasionally, pushing leaves off the dappled fruit and inspecting each one. He finally picks one that has a split down the side and continues to the next short tree.
“Hey.” I stop while he repeats the process, finding another overripe fruit and dropping it into the cooler he brought with him.
He cuts his eyes up at me. “What?”
His curt tone doesn’t bug me. “How many do you need?”
“Noel said to bring her ten. She’s making ice cream.” He finds another split peach and drops it into the cooler.
“Anything in particular you’re looking for?”
“Just ones that can’t be sold.” He picks another one, and I search the limb in front of me.
I’m surprised how long it takes to find a blemished peach. “I guess I thought there’d be more split ones.”
“These are Freestone peaches. They’ll keep ripening until the end of July.” He picks another and hands it to me. “You can eat one.”
Turning it over in my hand, I look for signs of insects. “Does it need to be washed?”
“Nah, we use a natural insecticide to control the caterpillars and borers.”
“Cool.” I take a bite of the split fruit, and the juice is refreshing after the long day hauling palettes in the heat. “It’s not as sweet as I thought it would be.”
He keeps going, picking several more fruits.
I follow, finishing off the one he gave me. “Should I toss the pit?”
He shrugs. “It won’t hurt anything.”
I drop the stone and wipe my hands on my jeans. He stops and looks ahead before closing the top of the cooler. It’s just after noon and hot as the face of the sun out here. I step on a pit in my chucks and wish I’d packed tougher-soled shoes.
Leon glances down. “We can run by the boot store if you want to get some boots for while you’re here.”
“Not a bad idea. You can go with me.”
