The Farmers Daughter

Chapter 13: Not all hearts are made of stone

[ Dallas' POV ]
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As I walk through the damp grass to the entrance of the cemetery I hear Edith cut off the engine and the clank of the drivers door shutting, indicating she's gotten out to follow me.

"Wait! You forgot your scrapbook." She jogs after me with the faded scrapbook in her hands.

I don't answer as I keep walking.

"Dallas-" As she jogs to keep up with me she trips on a rock that's sticking out of the ground and it sends the scrapbook flying out of her hands and into a mud puddle. She couldn't catch her balance and ended up flat on her stomach with her arms sprawled out in front of her.

I slowly spin around on my heels as Edith hits the ground with a thump. She had tears in her eyes and now I know why... my scrapbook was covered in mud and the pages were soggy.

"Oh Dallas.." She shakes her head and tries to stand up, her knees shaking. "P-Please don't be mad."

"At least I don't have to blame myself for ruining it. I have you to thank for that." I clench my fists before bending down to pick up the sloppy mess of my scrapbook.

"Dallas," She hesitantly walks closer to me. "I would never.. n-never ruin something of yours on purpose."

"Because you're the good little pastors daughter, isn't that right?" I taunt her as I clutched the scrapbook to my chest.

She grabs hold of the back of my shoulders before turning me around so I'm facing her. I couldn't look up, couldn't stand the thought of looking into her eyes.

Those sweet brown eyes that make my heart melt like ice cream on a hot summer day.

"D-Don't.. I can't do this Edith." I back away from her as I keep my eyes focused on my dirty sneakers.

"You can't do what?" She frowns as she fiddles with her fingers nervously. "I-I d-didn't mean it.."

"I don't know if I can stay with you and Travis." I back up until the back of my legs brush up against a tombstone.

"I know we haven't been the most perfect family, but you can't just leave; not now." She wipes her hands on her jeans. "Not when I'm finally getting somewhere with you."

"Y-You just.. you make my heart race and you out of all people shouldn't be able to do that." I turn away from her and busy myself with looking for my mothers grave.

"M-Me? Dallas.. but we're just too-"

I cut her off. "Too different? Yeah, believe me I know. That's why I need to leave."

"You don't have to leave." There was fear in her voice and there was a part of me that feared leaving her behind as well.

"I do. I told myself I wouldn't fall for you but here I am going against my mind and letting my heart take over." I clutch the scrapbook tighter to my chest.

I hear footfalls behind me and then I stop myself so I don't knock Edith down since she planted herself right in front of me. "I get it."

"Stop it, Edith. Let's get this over with so we can go and I can pack up my stuff." I try to side step around her but she blocks me.

"Y-You just want to be loved and you want to be able to love something, somebody. I know how that feels..."

"B-But it can't be with me. I'm not worth anyone's time because I ruin people." The pain throughout my entire life comes flooding to the surface and the realization that I've caused the majority of it hits me like a ton of bricks. "I-I'm broken and no one can fix me. Travis is wrong, Edith; he can't fix me."

"God can fix you." Edith states and takes the scrapbook slowly from my hands and lays it down on a nearby bench. "If you let him."

"He wouldn't want me." I finally lock eyes with her and I hate that she's seeing me break down yet again.

"He wants you, Dallas. How do I know? It's because I've gotten a glimpse of your heart and I see deep down that you want to try." She pokes at my heart before wiping my tears with her sleeve.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you." My voice cracks as my rough tattooed hands grab her wrists gently. "My mind is weird and it still carries baggage from those days with my dad."

She breaks into a small smile and sniffles a bit. "I forgive you, okay? I'll buy you a new scrapbook for your pictures to make it up to you."

"Really?" I mentally slap myself for sounding like a little kid.

"Yes really. Now, let's go visit your mothers grave." She takes my hand and then picks up the scrapbook with her other hand. "You can take as long as you want."

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Uh oh... has Dallas become a softy? ;)

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~ Xoxo Madison Grace