Part 43 (1/2)

He scooped her up, planting a noisy kiss on her cheek before sweeping

his free atm around Darren. ”Give us a big one,” he told Darren, then

staggered as the boy pressed a hard, wet kiss on his chin. Hefting them

both, Brian stepped around the white plastic fences and stubby figures

spread around the floor.

”Farming again?”

”It's Darren's favorite.” Bev waited for him to sit, then grinned. Brian

was always at his best in the circle of his family. ”I'm afraid you've

just plopped down smack in the manure pile.”

”Oh?” He leaned over to pull her against him. ”Wouldn't be the first

time I've sat in s.h.i.+t.”

”s.h.i.+t,” Darren repeated, his diction perfect.

”Good going,” Bev murmured.

Brian only grinned and tickled his son's ribs. ”So what's the plan?”

She settled back as Darren wiggled out of Brian's hold to sit in her

lap. ”We're plowing under the corn since we've decided to plant

soybeans.”

”Very wise. Quite the gentleman farmer, aren't you, old man?” He poked

a finger into Daffen's pudgy stomach. ”We'll have to take that trip to

Ireland. Then you can ride on a real tractor.”

”Let's go. Let's go.” Darren bounced on Bev's lap, chanting his

favorite phrase.

”Darren can't ride on a tractor until he's bigger,” Emma said, sedately

folding her hands over her knee.

”Quite right.” With a smile, Bev nodded toward Brian. ”Just like he

can't use the cricket bat or the bicycle someone bought him.”