Gus looked at his father and burst out laughing. “Okay, Dad, you’re the boss.”
Sam thought he was going to black out at the kind words. He had to get past the moment and think about all this later. He could hardly wait to talk to Tillie and tell her. He had to think about that later, too. “You sweet on that little gal, Amy?”
A smart-ass retort rose to Gus’s lips, but he stifled it. “She’s okay, Dad. She’s got a good work ethic.”
“Well, that sure as hell doesn’t sound very romantic, son. Do I need to take you into the woodshed and explain the facts of life? I asked you if you were sweet on her. I’m kind of sweet on her Momma. You wanna run with that one, son?”
Son of a gun! “Yeah, Dad, I am kind of sweet on that little gal. You want to run with that one?”
Sam threw his arm around his son. Father and son started to laugh like two lunatics as they slapped each other on the back.
“I’m going over to the balsam fir field. Is it okay if Cyrus goes with me?” Sam gasped as he wiped at his wet cheeks.
Gus nodded. Banner days like this were something he’d only dreamed of.
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